#in a fun healthy reciprocated way of course

[becca-e-barnes]

Before I go back to writing requests again, I'm fully obsessed with 'Too Sweet' by Hozier and I just need to talk about it 🤤

Like dbf!Bucky laying you down on your bed, maybe in a little bit of a hurry before your parents get home.

"You're too sweet for me." Even as he's saying it, he's tugging your dress up, kissing up the insides of your bare thighs, letting you enjoy the gentle scratch of a couple of days of beard growth.

You pull your dress off the rest of the way, lying on your bed in only your underwear and it forces him to take a second that he really doesn't have to pause and just admire you.

"Far too sweet for me." He confirms, drinking in the sight of you. All those soft curves and kissable expanses of bare skin weigh on him because with so little time, where is he supposed to start? It's not fair to rush this but it's not like either of you would benefit from getting caught.

The way he looks at you gives you a confidence you've found you really benefit from.

"Maybe I'm not too sweet." You can't stop yourself, letting your hand trail from your breasts to the elastic band of your panties, sliding under the thin material.

Your fingers stray towards your clit, the tip of your middle finger circling the little bundle of nerves, very aware that you've got such a keen audience. Fuck, you're so wet already. You can't help it when he kisses the way he does; like he fucking needs you.

"Maybe I'll do all the naughty things you've ever dreamed of and then some. Maybe I'll be the one to ruin you." You're almost convincing yourself with this and it's thrilling to watch him squirm, his dick twitching in the confines of his jeans.

"I'd like you to." He hadn't given that a whole lot of thought until now. Up until this point, you were the sweet young woman who was entirely too wholesome to get tangled up with him.

That all changes quite quickly. It's hard not to when you remove the hand from your panties, trailing your arousal soaked fingertip along his bottom lip, keen to see how long it would take him to engulf it with his eager mouth. Not long at all, it appears.

[ann1eee]

How you take care of sick Gojo

Gojo Satoru is your best friend. You both do pretty much everything together. You eat lunch, breakfast and dinner together, discover new places together, go out together, attend your classes together; you both even decided to live together in the second year of university, because you decided it was more fun.

A few days back, Satoru felt just a little too warm. He whined and whined until you finally stuck a thermometer into his mouth with a sigh. You pulled it out as it beeped, and raised your eyebrows in concern at the temperature.

“How much is it?” Satoru asks, noting your expression.

“102. You definitely have a fever.”

Satoru dramatically gasped and let himself fall back onto the pillow. You took a deep breath and went into the kitchen to find some medicine to lower his temperature.

You filled a glass of water and placed it in the microwave. You could hear Satoru tossing and turning in his bed, and quickly gathered the medicine to bring to him.

He protested for a good ten minutes when you handed him the medicine, but eventually gave in once he noticed the concerned look on your face.

You patted his back as he swallowed the medicine, and helped him lay back down. You told him to go to sleep while you went into the kitchen to make him some healthy soup. He flashed you a sweet smile, silently thanking you for the effort.

Once you finished cooking, you carefully took the soup into his room and woke him up by stroking his head. He woke up with a grumble, but was happily surprised at how gentle you were being with him. How domestic, he thought.

You fed Satoru his soup, and pressed your hand against his forehead to check his temperature and hissed at how hot his skin felt.

You felt an odd feeling of concern for Satoru. Of course, he was your best friend, and you were always concerned about him, but today, you just felt like taking care of him not in a way a friend would, rather a worried lover.

You wanted to stroke his forehead and put him to sleep, to give him a little kiss on his forehead every few minutes, you wanted to lay his head on your lap everytime he whined, you wanted to cuddle him as he slept.

But most of all, you wanted to feel his warm tongue slip into your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You blushed as you imagined him doing such a lewd thing, gosh, he was your bestfriend, not your boyfriend. You weren’t allowed to have such thoughts and fantasies about him, he wasn’t yours. You frowned at the thought.

You glanced up at Satoru has you finished feeding him, tucked him into bed and went out of his bedroom.

“Get well soon, Satoru. I’m here if you need anything.” You muttered and shut his door.

You plopped yourself onto your shared couch and turned on a movie. Your mind raced as you thought about these new feelings about your best friend, wondering what to do next.

You’re almost sure Satoru doesn’t feel the same way for you. Every moment you’ve shared has had purely platonic intent, right? It’s not as if anything could come out of these feelings for him? right?

Your friendship with Satoru was way too important for you to ruin by admitting your feelings for him. There was absolutely no way you’d jeopardise what you have with him on a whim, assuming he might reciprocate these feelings. You exhaled and tipped your head back onto the couch. How complicated.

Suddenly you heard Satoru’s bedroom door open and he stepped into the living room groggily.

“Are you alright, Toru? Do you need something?” You question, rising up from your seat.

“Cant sleep.” He simply states, making his way to the couch, pulling you down onto it along with him.

You widen your eyes in surprise as he wraps his arms around your body and rests his head on your shoulder. He hugs you tight, and shuts his eyes.

You massaged the arm that snaked around your waist, and leaned back against his chest. You noticed Satoru stiffen at that, and whipped your head to the side, wondering what was wrong.

It was then that you noticed how red Satoru was. Probably because of the fever, you thought. But then you saw him sneakily lick his lips and bite the corner gingerly. You couldn’t help but stare at how delicious his glossy pink lips looked, and Satoru noticed.

He didn’t wait another second as he crashed his lips onto yours, one hand gripping the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. You let out a small gasp into his mouth, at which Satoru moaned. He pulled you onto his chest as his tongue danced around with yours.

Once he pulled away, you looked as if you were the one with a fever, not him. Your cheeks and nose were flushed red, your eyes half lidded. Satoru contemplated taking you to his bedroom to continue, but didn’t want to get you sick as well. He lifted you up, and carried you into your bedroom.

“Let’s continue this once i’m alright, yeah?” He smirked as he pulled your blanket over your chest.

“Then you better get well soon.”

[wholesome-holland]

Cassie x male reader

She is really attached to him and is by his side 24/7 and she thinks he is getting tired of her and being clingy so he reassures her and it’s just fluff

Clingy

request for: anon!

paring: cassie howard x male!reader

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, overthinking, negative self talk

     Cassie Howard was a lover girl. She loved love, she loved being loved and she loved loving others. She had been in a few relationships here and there, and she fell hard for every guy she was with. Many of those guys had just been with her for the sexual benefits that came with being in a relationship, some of them because they really liked her. Regardless of the reason, every one of those relationships ended the same way; her being broken up with.

"I'm not looking for anything serious."

"I'm not into you like that."

"I'm interested in someone else one."

"I just want to work on myself."

She'd heard every reason in the book, and they all hurt. Breakups always were painful, but having a bullshit excuse come with it made it even worse. Out of all of the excuses she'd heard, there was one that stood out the most. One that hurt more than all the rest, one that was more common for her to hear.

"You're just too clingy, it's too much."

She would rather hear anything but that. The word clingy cut her deep, it was a continuous wound that never healed regardless of who she was with. She couldn't help it, she wanted the person she was with to know she loved them and she wanted to feel that love was reciprocated. She often seeked out reassurance, none of them ever gave it. Her love ran so deep, all she wanted was that same type of love in return. Granted, she had also never been in a healthy relationship, until she met Y/n Y/l/n.

Cassie met him during her senior year a little while after her split from Chris McKay. She knew of Y/n, even if she didn't know him personally. He was a hockey player at East Highland, one of their best players. He was a senior just like her, and was relatively popular. The party— that was being hosted by someone whose name she couldn't remember— was being held at a large house with hundreds of people from their school. She and her sister Lexi arrived with their group of friends after spending hours getting ready together. She hadn't been single for this long until a while, but for once, she didn't mind. She was okay, she felt alright. She enjoyed spending the time getting ready and looking pretty for herself and not for someone else, it felt so good. Even knowing she would possibly run into McKay at the party didn't bother her or make her feel pressured to look perfect. She wanted to look perfect for herself. She was proud of herself for that.

     It had been a while since her and her friends went to a party together, they were making the most out of it and living it up. Maddy and Nate just so happened to also be split up, so they weren't spending the evening clinging to their man's arms. They were dancing with their girls, laughing, and having fun.

     At some point during the night, Cassie decided she wanted a drink, as anyone attending a party would. There was a bar area she had been told was set up in the middle of house, and as she made her way to said bar area, some people who were mindlessly dancing bumped into her rather aggressively. Which then sent her flying into another person, sending them to the floor. That person just so happened to Y/n Y/l/n.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! Are you okay? I'm so sorry," she frantically told him, helping him up from the ground.

"No worries, I'm okay," Y/n said, rubbing the back of his head as he accepted her help up.

"I feel horrible. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over. I was trying to get through and there were people dancing and—"

"Hey, seriously, it's alright. No need to apologize," He gave her a small smile, "I'm used to it from Hockey." He joked.

Of course, that didn't stop her from feeling bad for knocking into him. Every time she tried to apologize, he was wave her off, assuring her that it truly was alright and it was no big deal. She offered to make him a drink as a final apology, claiming she knew a special recipe she could make with the liquor that was present. He took that opportunity to make an agreement; if he accepted the drink, she would stop apologizing.

      "Okay, fine. I can agree to that," Cassie chuckled, grabbing two cups and a couple of the bottles. Before she could start pouring, Y/n put a hand on her arm.

     "We have to pinky swear," He grinned, holding his pinky out to her. She playfully rolled her eyes before locking her pinky with his, squeezing it slightly.

     "Pinky swear." That lead to the two spending the whole night talking to one another, getting to know each other. He was such a gentleman and so kind right off the bat in a way none of the other guy's at their school were. He was also strikingly handsome, which was just an added bonus. They spent quite a lot of the night chit chatting, not realizing how long it had been until Maddy came looking for Cassie.

"There you are, come dance with me!" Maddy exclaimed, taking Cassie's hand and trying to drag her away.

"Hold on, one sec Maddy," The blonde said, motioning to the boy next to her. Maddy made an o"o" shape with her mouth before smirking at her, giving her a thumbs up and walking away.

Y/n chuckled the interaction, "Well, I better let you get back to your friends. I've kept you held up long enough," he stated.

"Yeah, I guess. It was really nice talking to you, Y/n. We'll have to talk more soon," Cassie responded, a large grin on her face.

"Yes, definitely," Y/n said before quickly grabbing his phone from his back pocket. "Would you... maybe want to give me your number? So we can keep talking more? Only if you want to, only if you're comfortable with that." His cheek flushed a light shade of pink as he waited for her response.

"Of course, I'd love that." They exchanged phone numbers before bidding their goodbyes, both smiling equally as wide.

That was just the start of their story. They quickly began texting all the time, every day. They would meet up every now and then at school, hang out after school, and before long Cassie began to develop feelings for the boy. This time, it was different. Y/n was unlike any other boy she had ever met; He was funny, kind, respectful, and cared about more than just her pretty face or body. He cared about all the little things, just as much as the big things. He knew all her favorite things, all her little habits and ticks, and he knew how to make her smile.

About two months later, Y/n decided he was going to ask the girl he had fallen so hard for to be his girlfriend. It started with him asking her in a date, to which she said yes. He had arranged a surprise dinner at her favorite restaurant and got her a big, beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. After dinner, he took her to his house where he decorated the finished basement with lights, flower petals, and candles. He set up a cozy movie station for them to watch her favorite movies.

During the movie, they went from sitting next to each other to Cassie snuggling into his chest. As the credits rolled, he shifted upwards causing her to look up.

"Y/n? You okay?" Cassie asked, her eyebrows furrowing together.

He took a deep breath in, preparing himself in his head. "Cass?" He said.

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you something," he kept his sentences short in order to not word vomit due to his intense nerves. Cassie sat up straight, looking him in the face as she felt her heart start to beat faster. Could this be it? Is he gonna ask what I think? She thought to herself.

"So, I'm sure you can probably tell based on me asking you on a date, but I really, really like you," he began, feeling himself blush.

"I really like you too, Y/n." She beamed, unable to hide the pure joy on her face.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning like he'd just won an award. The girl nodded, and he inched his hand towards hers. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to be your girlfriend, Y/n."

Just like that, they were officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Y/n swore he'd never been happier in his whole life, and he made it his mission to show her every single day. He brought her flowers on a daily basis, took her on all kinds of dates every week, made sure she knew how beautiful she was every day, and made sure make his devotion known.

In every relationship she had been in at this point, she had been spoiled, but not to this extent. Nobody had ever shown her this kind of affection, let alone kept it consistent no matter how much time passed. She had never felt so loved, and it made her fall in love with him even harder than she already was. She couldn't believe how lucky she had been to find him.

     Months passed, the two were more attached at the hip than ever. At school, Y/n walked Cassie to all her classes, sat with her at lunch, and drove her to and from school. After school, she would attend all his practices and games for both sports depending on the season. He would go to all her ice skating practices, and anything she found important. They spent all their free time together, it was hard to get one away from the other. Y/n's friends made fun of him, but he always shut them down and made sure they knew not to make any comments that were anything but nice about his girl. He didn't care what they had to say, all he cared about was Cassie. He pushed her to make time for her friends as well as him, but he didn't mind not hanging out with his friends that often. None of them were as close as Cassie was to her friends.

Eventually, they met each other's parents and families. Casie invited him over for dinner and it was safe to say Suze absolutely adored Y/n. She made sure to point out the drastic change she'd seen in her daughter since he came along, she hadn't seen her that happy in a long time. Not even with McKay. When meeting Y/n's family, Cassie was invited to their annual bowling night. It was the family's thing, it was very rare for them to invite newcomers. But, Cassie was different. They gladly made the exception, and ended up all loving the girl just as much as Suze loved Y/n.

Their relationship was relatively flawless, though they definitely had their struggles every now and then. Cassie had never been in a relationship that was healthy, and had plenty of work to do to make this relationship stay that way. She had insecurities and fears she needed to stay mindful of, and Y/n was there to help her every step of the way. He reassured her, comforted her, and was very patient and supportive of her. For the most part, she learned to feel secure.

One thing Cassie hadn't learned to handle though, was her clinginess. Sometimes, she wouldn't even catch herself being clingy. Other times, her ex's voices rang in her mind telling her she was "too clingy" and "too much" nonstop. When that happened, she would begin to pull away a little bit in fear he would think the same thing as the other's did. Y/n only ever noticed a difference when she would pull away from him, which left him confused. He would try to pry and talk to her about it, and every time she would just brush it off like it was nothing. He could clearly tell it was something, but she wouldn't budge.

That was until she began acting that way in the middle of date night. It was their date night in for the month, where they typically would cook together and watch whatever show they were currently binging together. One date a month they would do this, the rest of their dates they went out and about. Cassie was usually rather cuddly and touchy with her boyfriend, she never found herself overthinking during their dates. This particular day was a Friday, and at school she heard other cheerleaders talking very loudly about her boyfriend in the locker rooms after practice.

"I can't believe Cassie and Y/n are still together," one girl said. Cassie, who was in a bathroom stall, tried her hardest to ignore them. At first, she brushed it off, until they kept going and would not shut the fuck up.

"I know right! How is he not sick of her?"

"She literally throws herself at him 24/7, it's insane."

"She is so fucking desperate, he must get so tired of it. I swear I saw him move away from her when she tried to hug him today."

"It's about time, maybe he's realizing he can someone less pathetic."

The blonde couldn't get their words out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. If other people thought that way, surely he did too, right? People she barely even talked to could sense how clingy she was, and apparently how annoyed he appeared. That right there was enough to send her into an overthinking episode, one much worse than she'd had in a while. As Y/n dished up their places, she was leaned against the counter, staring off into space as she thought it all over. She was pulled from her thoughts when her boyfriend wrapped an arm around her, telling her the food was ready. She quickly shied away from him, bidding him a thank you as she took her plate and headed towards the stairs.

"Hey, babe?" Y/n called out, his tone laced with concern. She turned around to look at him as he grabbed his own plate and began walking towards her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, staring at the ground and going down the stairs. The boy furrowed his eyebrows, following close behind her. They sat on the couch together with their plates in their laps, Y/n taking a seat close to his girlfriend. She scooted over the slightest bit, but wanting to appear like she was all over him. Many red flags were going off in Y/n's head, she wasn't being her usual, lovey, talkative self. Something was definitely wrong. The boy kept making advances in attempt to be close to her, just to be rejected each and every time.

After a half hour of them going back and forth, him silently trying to fix the problem, he decided to speak up. "Baby?"

"Hm?"

"What's going on with you today?" He finally asked, staring at her with a look of concern. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze as she tried not to make eye contact.

     "Nothings going on," she lied, looking everywhere but at him.

     "Yes there is," he stated. "I know you like the back of my hand and you've been acting super off since after practice. Talk to me, love."

     "I don't know what you're talking about," Y/n knew what she was doing; she was bullshitting him to avoid talking about the problem. If it was over something small, he would wait until she was ready to talk about it. This was different, and he wanted— no, needed to know what was wrong so he could fix it.

     "You've been really quiet, which isn't like you. You haven't really let me touch you, and you haven't been touchy with me either—"

     "What's so bad about that?" she cut him off, her voice just barely above a whisper.

      "What? What do you mean?" Y/n asked, feeling even more confused and concerned.

      "I mean I'm too clingy, anyways. And I'm too much, what's so bad about me not acting like that?" As she spoke, her eyes filled with tears. The moment Y/n noticed, he was taking her face in his hands and moving her head to face him. She still avoided his gaze as she tried to keep her tears at bay.

     "Baby, look at me," she shook her head no, but that didn't stop him. "Cassie, please. I need you to look at me,"

     After what felt like forever, she finally met his gaze and he swore he felt himself melt in her eyes.

“Cassie, you are not too clingy or too much.“ he told her firmly.

“But, I’m all over you all the time. It’s pathetic,” the girl scoffed as her boyfriend wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“Why would you say that, love? You’re not pathetic,” he whispered with a sad frown.

“Because it’s true, and you know it too.” She moved backwards away from his grasp before wiping at her own face with her hand.

“What?! No! I don’t think you’re pathetic baby, not at all. I would never, ever think that of you.”

“Maybe not now, but you will! They always do! I’m— I’m always too much, or I’m too clingy or desperate and everyone thinks so! Everyone always gets sick of me, just like you will because they’re all right!” Cassie cried out, letting her head fall into her hands as soft sobs escaped her lips. Y/n couldn’t believe his ears, it broke his heart right in half to hear that his girl thought so low of herself— and even more so that she thought he believed it, too.

“Woah, woah, woah. Who said that?” He was quickly moving to wrap his arms around her shoulders, being weakly shoved off. He didn’t let that stop him, and he pulled her into his chest and held her tightly as she cried. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, rocking her back and forth. They sat like that for who knows how long before Cassie calmed down, feeling embarassed about her outburst.

“Are you ready to talk, baby?” Y/n asked as he reached for a nearby box of tissues. Cassie nodded before blowing her nose. After that, she told him everything from all of the things her exes had said to her to what she overheard the girls saying in the locker room. He felt his heart shatter even more, all he wanted was to scoop her in his arms and love her forever. “My love, I need you to know they are all wrong. So wrong! I could never get sick of you, and I will never get sick of you or annoyed with you. Sure, maybe you can be clingy, but I love it. I love your clingy, because I am just as clingy to you if not more. I love how attached and touchy you are with me, I love all of it… I love you, Cassie.”

Cassie’s head perked up, fearing she misheard him. “You what?”

“I love you, Cassie. I am so in love with you,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. “You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready, but I just wanted you to know.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” She grinned, cutting him off.

Y/n chuckled as his own smile grew. He pulled her in and gave her a soft, passionate kiss. He knew he wasn’t going to just skip over what she was worried about, and was going to continue to reassure her, but right now he was so ecstatic to know that she loved him just like he loved her.

okay this turned out WAAAYYYY longer than this was meant to, and didn’t necessarily follow canon… but i’m not mad at it!! i hope you all liked it, and i hope the anon who requested it loves it!! i’m so glad to be getting back into writing. i have so much more planned to come out and i hope you’re all as excited as i am!!

[callofdudes]

I've got a pride month request coming along as well, I'm just getting lots of writing juices back. So don't mind me, sorry, a little "fun" mental health post. Don't take all of this as 100% as I'm not a mental health professional but I do study psychology for leisure.

Dissociation and indifference.

While able to crack jokes and engage with others, he's generally learned to keep his hands out of hot water, and if he does, he doesn't show that it burns him. On top of many mental health medications causing fatigue, distance, and emotional lows, Ghost does his best not to express the stress that work brings to him. Which is something that can be seen either as a strong male role model, or the less healthy version, evasion of one's emotional needs over physical.

Let's be honest, Ghost spends most of his time in the gym rather than talking to a therapist. And while working on yourself physically can be a breath of fresh air, sometimes it's good to let the mind breathe too.

It takes him a lot of time to open up. For a lot of people, recognizing that trust is trust no matter how close you are to the person. Ghost's lack of trust does not distinguish between blood or friend. It has to be him that makes that step, but it's working through the indifference that helps get to the core of his pain. As indifference to topics like mental health discussions can be a coping mechanism against how one feels.

"Simon, can I get you some tea?" You asked when you looked over at him and saw him sitting silently on the couch. He rubbed his knuckles as he stared at the wall, then shrugged.

"Are you hungry?"

Another shrug. "Depends what you're making." He finally responded, deadpan and unenthusiastic. You frowned softly and decided to make him some tea. Soon heading to the couch, you set down the cup and sat next to him.

You quietly relaxed. "Would you like to talk about anything?" You knew you had to let Simon come to you. It was difficult, but extending that offer and reassuring him you were there was always the first step.

He was quiet for a moment. "No."

"Ok... When you're ready." You gently rubbed his shoulder. You relaxed next to him and turned on the tv. The faint glow of the passing frames flashed against his pupils but his reactions to it were minimal.

After some time, he reached for the tea and took some sips. "Y/n...?" He shifted slightly.

You looked over at him and nodded.

"Can we... Talk about something?"

You paused the movie and shifted to sit facing him some more, giving him your attention. "Of course, what do you need to talk about?"

His shoulders relaxed slightly at the reciprocation, and slowly brought his needs and feelings out, letting you see the inner workings for a little bit. And you listened.

Dramatic emotional switches.

Sometimes this is harder to analyze or to catch, but this can be a sign of stress or like indifference, a cherry aversion to the hectic world around us.

While this can absolutely just be someone's nature, mental health is most times disguised within layers of regular everyday emotion that not even the person doing it may realize.

I think Johnny's cheerfulness comes from his nature, but under stressful circumstances it can come out as a way of attempting to feel in control of his hectic environment. We don't see this often, but it is common amongst individuals struggling with stress and anxiety.

But after these stressful happy sprints, it can lead to an emotional low due to stress catching up, or being too much to ignore and push aside. Leading to days of not feeling happy at all. Common themes of depression can be random emotional highs, followed by feeling like the world is horrible and you'd rather die than do anything else.

Like with Ghost, this can absolutely be a character trait to boost morale in friends, not wanting to see them fall into the emotional state they are wishing to ignore. During work, Johnny comes off as a strong and intelligent role model, and I think he knows how to distinguish work and personal life better than the others. Willing to confront the bulk of his feelings and stress when in an environment where he doesn't feel the need to constantly be the last line of morale.

It had been a while since you'd seen Johnny. You'd recently come back from a pretty excruciating mission and you couldn't blame him for wanting rest. When dinner rolled around you headed to his room and knocked. "Johnny?"

A minute of silence before Johnny perked up. "Come in."

You shifted the door and headed inside to see him relaxing on his bed with his sketchpad. "Hey y/n." He smiled warmly, sharing his warm presence with you.

"Heh Johnny, food is out in 20, guy hungry?"

"Yeah! I'll be out in a bit. I've just gotta finish this drawing."

"Cool, can I have a look?"

He hesitated slightly, then nodded, his smile returning. "Yeah sure." He sat up and let you come over and see his sketchbook. You looked down at the drawing and smiled softly. "I keep forgetting you're so good at that."

He looked up at you, the smile on his lips not fully translating to the lost expression behind his eyes.

You looked at him, and gently touched his shoulder. "You good? I know you had a close call, even if the medics said you were good."

"Yeah, I'm feeling good. A little sore, but it comes with the territory." He closed his sketchbook.

A moment of silence came between you two, and the look you gave him made tears spill into his eyes. "Johnny..." You opened your arms.

Johnny hesitated before hugging you tightly. You held him back, gently stroking his back. "You're ok... We're all ok." You assured him as his tears wet your shoulder. "You did amazing.."

Johnny let out the burst of emotion, finally allowing himself to come down from that false high, and rest in the knowledge that he was ok here.

Overworking, trouble distinguishing work from personal life.

Price has a tendency to overwork himself when he's feeling stressed or agitated. Oftentimes indulging in one or more cigars to momentarily get a hit of relief for a much more extensive problem. When growing up with role models that pushed for perfection and hard work it can make it hard to distinguish the stresses of work from personal life. Price ends up taking a lot of the work stress home, and vice versa.

This can lead to him feeling even more stressed or striving to trap the things going on around him in both personal and professional settings under his thumb. Burying himself in his work can help him feel like he's being productive or that he has control over what happens in that space.

He's constantly reassuring his team, as captain even if he feels out of control it's his job to keep his head on and make sure his team feels like he has both hands on wheel, which can be stressful. Over time this is a tactic that has been branded into his behaviour and he is always doing this.

In his home life this can affect how he acts in the home, including feeling a need to take control more often to feel that people he loves in his environment are properly taken care of.

This can also lead to his underlying anger and tendencies to push down his frustrations and work it out through physical activity or cussing at a wall until he's tired. But, also not the type of person to go to therapy about this, as he may not even realize it's a problem if it's so deep in his routine.

You leaned on the doorframe of Price's study as he worked away. He'd had dinner in there, and the plate was still stacked on the edge of the desk where he'd mentally told himself he would take it back.

"You doing ok, John?" You asked, and walked over to him.

"Mhm. Got stuff to do for Laswell..."

"Important report?"

He shrugged. "Something like that. Just need a bit. I'll come away soon."

You nodded and gently rubbed his shoulder. "Well, don't work yourself stiff, ok?"

He nodded after a moment, his eyes not leaving his computer. You didn't say anything else and left him to his work. Around an hour later you came back. "How's it coming?"

"Mm... More stuff to finish." He muttered, still glued to the screen.

"It can wait, you're off duty... I'm sure Laswell knows that."

This time Price didn't respond, and you knew you needed to step in. "John." You came over and gently touched his shoulder. Finally, he looked up at you, searching your eyes for anger.

You gently squeezed him. "Why don't we play a game together?" You gave him a soft smile, and his shoulders tempted to give way under your touch.

"Why?"

You gently took his hat off and brushed his hair away. "Because, I know you need to do something, so come do something with me. I want to spend time with you."

He leaned slowly into your touch, allowing you to close his laptop. "Can I pick the game?"

"You know you can."

Price stood and you wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged you back. "We can do this together, you're home..."

Mistrust, underlying frustration and vocal outbursts.

Life can be extremely stressful in their line of work and from my perspective, this shows in Gaz's contrast between his calm collected nature and the vocal outbursts he has. This is no doubt because of stress and building frustration that he is struggling to control.

His mistrust in authority or inability to understand or rationalize his surroundings can lead to these outbursts. Kyle's calm and collected side is something to be desired, but when he's alone and has nothing to focus on, that anger can quickly turn unchecked. Whether it be beating a punching back or spending most of his time angrily analyzing interactions or comebacks to conversations in his head for hours.

It's a constant loop, while working, while trying to relax, he's always got an interaction that irritated him running through his head. Or feeling like he isn't smart enough because he couldn't come up with the answers for the conversation at that moment.

Kyle was beating himself up. He felt like such an idiot. I had the bastard right in his hands. He frowned, throwing another furious kick at the punching bag. "Bloody- stupid bastard!" He ground his teeth angrily.

By that point his frustration was obvious. You went over to check on him. "Everything ok, Kyle?"

"I fucking had him!"

You nodded a little. "Hey, can't blame yourself, we all have mishaps."

"Not this time." He said with exasperation. "I had him right there! I had him in my hands! And he still got away..."

You reached over and gently took his arm. "Kyle,"

He moved away, but you gently touched him again. "Kyle, look at me, please."

He exhaled heavily and looked at you, the frustration evident. "I know it's frustrating. But we'll get him. We always do."

"I know..." He hung his head. "I wish I could have done more... The look on the captain's face.."

You gently took his hand and squeezed it. "You're strong, Kyle. You're the best of the best." You gently rubbed his knuckles. "But even the best of us make mistakes, and mess up. You don't have to worry about being perfect."

He blinked, his frustration filtering out from anger, to tears. "Bloody... Hell.."

"Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one."

His shoulders dropped, and with that you gently hugged him. "We'll get him... I promise. But we aren't pinning this on you, ok?"

He squeezed you, a tear rolling down his cheek. You'd stand there as long as he needed, as long as he knew the weight wasn't on him to be the perfect soldier.

[alicerosejensen]

In short, I thought about it most of the night and made some notes on my phone.

I'm still translating part 3, but while I'm on vacation and have enough free time, I want to write headcannons.

specifically the jealous Leon. He is almost forty and his girlfriend is just over twenty. Don't get me wrong. I share moderate jealousy and excessive jealousy. For me, these are different things, so "WARNING! if you don't like reading this, just skip this post.

You have an absolutely healthy relationship (as far as possible with Leon's psyche). You don't give him any reason to doubt your loyalty to him.

He considers himself too "old" for all these hangouts, preferring to spend time in peace and stability after a long mission, but you are a young girl who wants to have fun with friends from time to time (among which there are guys).

Leon has nothing against your entertainment and does not interfere with communication with others. Although, some selfish part of him wants you to spend more time with him, but he won't talk about it out loud.

Of course, he understands that others may like you too. You see, Leon still doesn't understand what you saw in him when you could date someone of your peers. It all started as a silly joke, and then you both wanted more from communicating with each other. And it's not just about sex.

You took care of Leon when you stayed at his place overnight, and in the morning you made breakfast with coffee, asking if you brewed it too hard. And while Leon is having breakfast, you always kiss him on the back of the head. Something that Ada or anyone else has never done.

After that, the cute attentions from you mean too much to Leon. He is a bit old-fashioned and will probably ask for official consent if you want to be in a relationship with him, despite his frequent absence and age difference.

“Do I need to sign some kind of agreement? Like, yes, I agree on all points to become your girlfriend? Signature and today's date?“ - You laugh with Leon, adjusting the shirt you stole from him in the morning when he says that he does not have such a paper and an oral agreement will be enough.

Leon will in no way publicly cover his personal life because of his work. Putting you in potential danger is not what he wants at all. Yes, he is happy to spend time with you, but if someone asks him about your relationship, he will say that there is nothing serious about it. Just a girl who agreed to spend the night with him. And only the closest (and there are almost no such people at all, so the circle narrows down to Claire, Helena and, perhaps, then Hannigan) will know about his real attitude towards you.

He also likes to take care of you. In general, he will gladly take a shower with you, soaping his head with shampoo after which he makes funny hairstyles so that he can laugh with you about it later.

He takes care of you if you have a painful period / you have a cold / just not in the mood. To show reciprocal care for a partner is a joy to him.

He won't show any signs of jealousy until you tell him that the main character of the movie/series is too gorgeous and you wouldn't mind marrying him.

Of course it's a joke. He understands it himself, but it hurt him unpleasantly.

It will never go to the point of absurdity. It's just that Leon doesn't quite like it when he accidentally sees you in correspondence with a friend discussing some cute actor/model/singer or other public personality admiring his beauty and charisma.

"Come on, he's not that good!" - in the end, he can't stand it when he's already in bed with you.

“Who?" - You ask innocently, stupidly blinking your eyes and looking straight at Leon.

“That guy from the movie. You can't do this trick in real life, it's a fucking special effect. And anyway, you don't like him, but the one he plays. I doubt he's ever held a real gun in his life.”

After that, Leon will lie down on the other side, leaving you completely perplexed.

It's stupid to be jealous of the handsome guy from the movie, he knows it himself. He just thinks that his age can still become an obstacle to your relationship, especially when he is often not at home and he is so much attached to you.

However, if some brat decides to start flirting with you thinking that "a lonely young girl needs company" Leon will immediately appear out of nowhere grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him.

At the same time, he will send a scathing look to the man.

Sometimes Leon can be very sarcastic towards you, but then he himself will feel guilty for it.

I think the longer he is in a stable relationship, the stronger his love for his partner becomes, and he doesn't care how much younger you are!

He loves you, and the thought that you might leave him for someone else bothers him. Therefore, sometimes Leon takes flirting with guys with hostility.

He is not one of those who will make a scandal out of the blue, but most likely will hold an explanatory conversation with you at home.

He just wants to make sure that your relationship with him is not a fun game for you.

Maybe he just took a friendly conversation like that, but you don't consider a conversation with a friend to be flirting.

It will be done professionally and unnoticeably (until morning), but Leon will leave you noticeable marks. How were you supposed to know that a sweet kiss on your neck would turn into a hickey?

Pretty hard to hide if it's summer or spring outside.

But Leon doesn't regret judging by his smug grin.

You're his woman. Of course you have complete freedom of action, but that asshole will know that you have someone and there is nothing to bother with an invitation to a date.

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

Melissa is Overdue

This was a little piece I thought up on a whim. A Pregnancy that went well overdue. Anyway this was pretty fun to work on.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

Melissa was just an average woman living in a small town. One day in the fall, she discovered that she was pregnant. Melissa at first was rather reluctant to discover this, as she was now all alone. Of course, it would happen after her boyfriend left her with his blonde whore of a waitress from the local diner. She was heavily contemplating aborting the baby. But eventually changed her mind. The reason she never divulged to anyone.

Melissa was already a rather plump lady to begin with and as the pregnancy progressed she wasn’t exactly overjoyed about it. She was hoping for more of the easy-to-manage symptoms with her pregnancy, like tiredness, and some morning sickness.

What she learned is that it is more of a roulette wheel, and what she got was a sensitivity to smells, wild and erratic mood swings, and incredibly tender breasts. At least when she discovered she was having a baby boy. If she was going to have one at least she wanted it to be “easy” as she’d put it. 

Weeks turned to months, and Melissa's baby grew bigger and bigger. Her plump tum rounded out into a fully-fledged baby bump by the time she reached six months. As her pregnancy developed into more of the later stages she talked with her doctor about her plan. “I want a water birth, I’ve already been in talks with a few different midwives,” she told her nurse

“I can see you’ve set your sights on it,” the nurse replied

“I have,” She told her doctor confidently

One thing that she absolutely did not want was to be cut open in any regard. She knew tearing might happen and resigned herself to that. But did not want to be cut open surgically if she didn’t need to. Something she voiced with extreme prejudice to her doctor, Gregory Lipshcitz, many times over several appointments.

“I just wanna make sure that you have a backup plan should something go wrong.”

“I know and nothing will go wrong, 'cause I already have it all planned out,” she told him

She was getting closer to her due date, July Second. Melissa was already a few weeks away. As she ran through everything she had planned out meticulously every detail from when she expected to start feeling her contractions to the hour she expected her baby to be born. She wanted everything to fall into place according to her own time and her convenience. But as July Second came and went, the baby didn’t so much as attempt to arrive.

“Sometimes babies come when they’re ready,” her closest friend told her

“Bullshit,” she replied “They can come when I’m ready for them”

A trip to her doctor would confirm this fact. However, he was out of town. And the stand-in, Doctor Edward Thompson, did not feel the same as she did. “You only missed it by a day and the little guy seems fine and healthy so, I don’t feel there is a need to induce your labor right now.”

‘I can think of several,” She pointed out to him, partially annoyed that her plans were ruined.

“Well we can agree to disagree,” Dr. Thompson told her, “I’m sure he’ll come out when you least expect it,” he told her wishing her well as she left the hospital

Melissa drove home with her bump nearly against the steering wheel. She started to look into ways to naturally induce her labor. She tried them all. She tried exercise, according to one study she saw a two-and-a-half-mile walk every day or a thirty-minute workout could help pop her. But nothing came of it except a daily fatigue halfway through the day. She ate a bowl of dates every day hearing that they could induce labor. Again there was nothing. 

The last thing she tried was sex. With no real boyfriend to fuck her rather regularly she took to having one of her friends dick her down nice and hard. But that too didn’t induce labor, even after getting fucked several times a day all she got was more frustration from the fact that he was less than reciprocating to her own needs. It had now been two whole weeks and she hadn’t even felt so much as a contraction.

Now at her doctor at forty-two weeks, huge and overdue she wanted to know if she could be induced now. “Despite my stubborn boy, he does need to come out eventually”

Dr. Thompson of course said he would consult with her primary doctor on this matter. With the go-ahead, they were ready to begin. While a nurse was setting up the IV line Melissa was asked, “So you haven’t felt any labor pains? No Braxton hicks? Nothing?”

“I wish I did,” she said

Not that she had pitocin coursing through her system. They waited for the telltale sign that it was doing its job. They waited the allotted forty minutes, but Melissa didn’t feel a thing. Not so much as a single cramp. Her water didn’t even break. An hour passed, but still nothing. Ultrasounds confirmed the baby was alive and healthy. “I don’t understand it,” Dr. Thompson said aloud

Objecting to use it again. They started to wade in on the idea of their next course of action. Melissa stayed in the hospital that night as they kept a close eye on her. She ended up sleeping rather soundly that night. Only really woke up to pee cause her son was using her bladder like a pillow.

Several doctors were gathered around Thompson and Lipschitz. Looking at extra copies of the ultrasound other doctors weighed in on the matter. They noted that the baby hasn’t dropped into position yet which could be the root cause. One suggests that there may be a different method of induction. All of them still neglect the fact that Melissa was over forty-two weeks pregnant, and her water didn’t break even after having pitocin in her system. Hours passed, and before she knew it another day had passed.

Melissa finally buckled and relented to her earlier point. “Fine, just give me a C-section! Let’s get this over with,” she told them.

The doctors didn’t waste any time. However, it didn’t exactly go according to plan. Bizarre and unforeseen circumstances caused a pause or a hindrance every time she was going to be wheeled in for a cesarean. An electrical fire erupted as they prepared the room for Melissa. Another surgical room had the ceiling collapse in on it. The nurses talked amongst each other about how it felt like this was an eerie coincidence.

Melissa was starting to feel it too. “Am I just gonna be cursed to be pregnant forever?”

“No,” One nurse tried to console her. 

“Then why haven’t I felt anything, any sign that this kid is gonna be coming out of me.”

Unsure how to respond. The nurse simply replied, “I’m sure that your son will be coming out any day now,”

Another week passed and she was now three weeks overdue. Walking felt rather cumbersome, and her waddle stride didn’t feel like it covered enough ground. She complained about how her son was just getting heavier and heavier.

The doctors still didn’t have an answer. The hospital was rather cautious about attempting to induce her again. The two surgical rooms they had lost were still in the clean-up phases. They absolutely did not want to risk a freak accident happening again and taking out another room.

Despite the hospital administration's growing concerns, Melissa remained determined to go for another. A different hospital. A different part of town. Only to be met with the same thing. A freak accident, this one a chemical explosion, the cause of which was still being determined.

“Oh god,” Melissa uttered upon hearing the news that her procedure was being moved to another date. “I’m gonna be fucking pregnant forever aren’t I?” she asked with a melancholy head hunched down over her massive baby belly.

Melissa felt her son moving, a little food pressing against the skin. She closed her eyes and tried to hold back her tears. Was this supposed to be a sign? Was this her baby's way of telling her that he was never going to leave her?

Several more weeks had passed and she was now sitting at a staggering fifty-two weeks. Her stubborn boy refused to budge. Not so much as a sign that the baby was coming out. He rested nice and high, not even descending. It was getting harder for Melissa to walk around and carry the weight of this pregnancy.

Sitting down for too long made her legs go numb. And lying down she found it was getting harder to stand back up. The way she waddled she was bound to knock things down more and more making trips to the store all the more challenging. She was getting embarrassed by her size. She was beginning to feel like she was under some kind of curse, a curse to carry her son in her womb forever.

One night before bed. As she lay there overburdened Resting as comfortably as she could, she started to question her baby, “Why haven’t you come out? What did I do to you? I carried you, I fed you so you’d grow, I did everything to make sure you grew healthy.” She was starting to tear up, “So why… So why won’t you come out?”

She waited. Nothing. She felt him lay there against where her hand was but not so much as an arm moved.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked

That night in her dream, she was standing there massively overdue. In her dream, she knew she had been pregnant for years. Her son just got bigger and bigger, never leaving the confines of her womb. She strained her back to keep her massively distending pregnant belly from scraping against the floor. The floor was a pedestal of stained glass heavily embroidered with imagery of broken hearts. She could hear every plan she ever made, every little detail she had ever planned out. A single question from one person she had overlooked. An interaction that seemed rather unimportant at the time.

“It doesn't sound like you love them,” a woman commented she too was expecting a baby herself

It was when Melissa was in the store buying some maternity clothes. “That doesn’t matter, Until they’re here it's all about me,” she said arrogantly

“That’s so sad,” she commented back. “How could you not love them before they’re born?”

Something Melissa never answered then. She woke up to see her huge belly, her hand still resting on it gently. With a soft voice and a gentle caress, she muttered the words to her sleeping baby boy, “I love you, Joshua. I love you,”

She felt him move that fluttering feeling; like back in the earliest stages of her pregnancy. Melissa closed her eyes and said it again. Faintly she started to feel the weight shifting. And the sensation around her uterus. A tingle at first that got stronger. She was fifty-two weeks pregnant, and with three simple words, she started to feel the early signs of labor. Melissa hoped he’d be coming out soon, happy and healthy, she didn’t care what happened to her now. But it wasn’t to be, she carried for another forty-eight days with no sign of ending in sight. As week sixty approached its end, her waiting son chose then to begin his birthing.

[bookshelf-dust]

the ones in red are always the prettiest.

gareth emerson x fem!henderson!reader.

word count: 4,215

warnings: swearing, pining, mentions of smoking, eddie playing matchmaker, the sweetest most disgustingly adorable fluff

a/n: i’m kind of in love with this, which doesn’t happen often. it felt easy to write too, if that makes sense. i hope you like it as much as i do!! <333

————

You don’t have friends. At least not really. Not anymore. You keep to yourself: go to class, study as best as you can, try and take care of yourself sometimes even. But you have got Dustin.

Dustin may be three years younger than you, but he’s remains your best friend. You tell him everything, and he knows you better than anyone. He is your one confidant.

Yeah, there may be some things that you don’t tell him, but he sort of knows, in a way. He’s always been smart as a whip. Like how lonely you are. How hard things can get. But he notices. Notices when you shy away from him, sink into yourself.

Yet he’s always there. Always. So when he started high school with you—his beginning, your ending—and found the Hellfire Club, it was like a dream come true. He’d found more kids like him to nerd out with, not that he didn’t nerd out with you, because he did. But he’d found his people. His own little group. And you were over the moon for him.

But that did take him away from you a bit. What with the initiations at the beginning of the year, new members and whatnot, the numerous and lengthy campaigns, Dustin simply making friends and having fun, you just didn’t see him as much. Didn’t have as much time to talk to him. But you were okay with that, because he was so happy.

————

Dustin was sitting at the Hellfire table, today sandwiched between Eddie and Lucas. You’d packed him a lunch this morning when you packed yours, because he’d said he was staying after school for a club meeting, and you wanted to make sure he had enough food, what with how late they could sometimes run.

The cafeteria food wasn’t always the best, and if he was going to be there extra long, he needed some snacks. Seeing Gareth and Mike sit down with trays full of whatever that was supposed to be, he was grateful for your gesture. Dustin dug around for the cookie he wanted, and snagged it, realizing you’d accidentally thrown two in there. So of course, being himself, he wanted to give it to you.

Dustin’s head shot up from where he’d been looking down, his eyes locating you sat at the table he’d been taken away from at the beginning of the year. Your neck was bent, nose buried in a book, and you were occasionally picking through your lunch pail. She needs this cookie, Dustin thought to himself. He hopped up, not thinking anything of it, ignoring the “Where’s he going?” and “Hey! You almost knocked my drink over!” that followed his change in seating.

You resisted the urge to flip your shit over the way Mr. Darcy was treating Elizabeth at the moment. Not that it was necessary, seeing as you'd read the book more than was healthy. Your page flipped with the gust of air that followed Dustin's aggressive flop as he sat down on the bench across from you. "How's Fitzwilliam today?"

"Prickish," you told him. "As al--" "As always," Dustin interrupted and finished for you. You grinned at him, closing the book, but keeping your thumb in to mark the page. "Need something, Dusty?"

He held out the cookie with both hands, bowing his head. "For you, my liege."

"Why, thank you kind sir." Dustin giggled at you, always willing to indulge him, and held his hand out for a high-five, which you reciprocated, before he scrambled back to his table.

"What was that all about?" Eddie inquired, shoving the last of a half-assed turkey sandwich in his mouth, wiping the crumbs on his knees before remembering that was where the holes in the denim were, making him steal Gareth's napkin. Gareth flipped him the bird.

"Just being a kind sibling. Figured she could use a nice gesture." Dustin adjusted the hat on his head. "I don't see how the two of you are related," Gareth started, "She's so quiet, and you're so—"

"Enthusiastic," Eddie finished.

"She's always been shy, but I think the quiet thing came after she got to high school."

"How's that?" Gareth popped the tab on his Dr. Pepper. "She had a pretty tight friend group in middle school, but they sort of grew apart. They got boyfriends, became cheerleaders, clones of one another. She didn't. She likes to read and doesn't give a shit about being popular—that's how we're related—and so I think the more independent she's become has made her eternally quiet. But she's kind of like us, actually, like when she gets excited about something. She's quite the nerd." Eddie smiled genuinely at Dustin, admiring the way he spoke about you, since most people didn't talk about their siblings like that. Mike certainly didn't.

Gareth glanced at you from where you finished off a bag of Ruffles, tipping the dregs into your mouth. Yeah, you were definitely related to Dustin. You dug around in your bookbag, pulling a red flannel on over your t-shirt. It was the same red as Gareth's vest. He pretended like that didn't affect him and went back to the Goldfish he'd gotten from the vending machine.

————

Dustin futzed with his hair in his bedroom mirror while you adjusted his makeshift 'X' belt buckle. He then tugged his hoodie down down, tucking the front into his yellow sweats to display the black emblem. "Here." You handed him his costume glasses.

You'd even sprayed a little blue in his hair for effect. He was the best Hank McCoy you'd ever seen. Dustin and his friend group had decided to go as assorted X-Men this Halloween, and the two of you had worked very hard on his costume. He'd begged you to join in, and you couldn't say no to him, so here you were with a huge white streak of hair on your head, attempting to be your very best Rogue.

You'd made your hair as big and curly as possible, and even spent a little extra on your temporary white hairspray so that it would last, a black headband pushed up your forehead to top it off. Your yellow top was tucked into green corduroy's, which matched the green bomber jacket you'd found at the thrift store. You'd dug out some worn in yellow converse, and Dustin had helped you make 'X' patches for your jacket and shirt.

Lucas and Max were supposed to be Scott and Jean, with Mike having chosen Sean Cassidy. You'd heard he'd been slaving over his Banshee 'wings.'

Some might think that all of you were too old for trick-or-treating, but none of you gave a shit. The plan was to hit the rich neighborhoods, traumatize tiny children, and then you were driving the group to Jeff's house for a Halloween party. Eddie had warned that if you didn't show up in costume, you weren't allowed in.

With a successful haul, you pulled into the driveway, nervous. "Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You looked at your brother in the passenger seat.

"Are you kidding? They invited you! They think it's cool that my sister likes Halloween as much as they do. You're gonna be great!" He smiled at you, adding an aggressive thumbs up for encouragement.

————

"Holy shit! You guys look great!" Jeff shouted as he opened the door, ushering all of you in. Jeff was covered in various makeshift nuts and bolts and stitches, opting for a very well albeit lazily crafted Frankenstein. When Eddie appeared, he was draped in a red and green sweater, and turning his cheek, he had some fake scar wax adorning the skin of his cheek. Although his knife fingers were only on his left hand as he waved at the lot of you. "Ladies first," he drawled.

"Thanks, Fred." You wandered into the kitchen in search of a drink as Dustin and his friends mingled. You didn't want to be the obnoxious older sister tonight, especially since he'd invited you to hang out with him and his friends.

You poured your drink, and were digging in the candy bowl when a voice interrupted you. "Wow, things must've really downhill with Xavier if Rogue is hangin' out with us." You looked up to find Gareth grinning at you.

You snorted. "I'm just here for the candy. Hank doesn't like to share." You let your eyes wander over his Dracula costume. His curls were extra defined tonight, and he'd clearly had the same idea as you, with a good bit of black spray weaved in with his natural brown. He was wearing all black under his cape, the red of the underside a stark contrast. Just looking at his cape, you could tell it was well-made and probably expensive. Given the boy, this probably wasn't the first time he'd used it.

He had rings on almost every finger, a dangly stake-like object hanging from one ear. But his fangs were the best part. They weren’t the plastic ones you bend and shove in your mouth, or comically oversized canines. They were small attachments on either of his own teeth, and were just big and sharp enough to be convincing. Honestly, he looked hot. You'd let him suck your blood.

Gareth laughed in response. It was hearty and sweet, and you hadn’t heard nearly enough of it. “Well, I like the costume. Looks good on you.” Oh shit. You were blushing now, weren’t you? You totally were.

“Thanks. I like yours too. The cape is very nice.” You popped a Dum-Dum into your mouth, and Gareth almost choked on his drink watching it move around in your mouth.

“Really? I’m glad you said so because I spent way too much money on it. I’ve been Dracula for the past like, four years, so I decided to at least make it look like I tried.”

“Well I think it’s very cute. It suits you,” you told him, popping candy in your pockets for later.

“Would you like to play a game? I think someone’s setting up Monopoly and you can see Eddie get mad when he loses.” Gareth grinned at you.

“Sure. I’d like that a lot.” He held out his hand, which you took, trying not to think about how nice the calluses felt against your skin, and lead you down to the basement, which you realized was where everyone else had gone off to.

————

The Monopoly game ended up being much shorter than intended because Eddie got pissed that he was broke ten minutes in and flipped the board with a “I hate this shit!” and laugh.

You were now playing Guess-Who? with Gareth, Max sitting beside you and Dustin sitting beside him, both of whom were finding great joy in the shitty descriptions either of you offered—you trying to make them as vague as possible.

“Do they have red hair?” Gareth asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe more of a chestnut.” You grinned at him and he slapped his hand to his forehead.

“You’re an asshole,” he told you, smiling whilst he did so.

“Yes, they have red hair Mr. Emerson.” You watched him flick down a couple of panels, eyes lingering on his fingers for probably too long. You heard a cough, and turned your head to see Max smirking at you, and then you were blushing again. “Fuck off,” you whispered to her. She shook her head at you.

It was your turn again. “Hmm. Is it Andrew?” You looked up from your board at Gareth, who was already looking at you. He had a look of betrayal on his face. “Yes, Y/N. It’s fucking Andrew.” You clapped your hands in triumph, sitting up on your knees to give Max a high-five.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” He flicked down all of the panels on both of your boards, putting them back in the box. “‘S not my fault you suck at this game.” He scoffed playfully at you.

“What do I win?” You inquired.

“What do you think? Jack shit.” You rolled your eyes and pulled a 3 Musketeers out of your pocket and tossed it at Dustin. He caught it, thanking you, and then he and Max went off elsewhere.

“I don’t get any candy?”

“Get your own, Emerson.”

“No, I don’t think I will. What’ve you got in there, huh?” You stood, trying to fend off the candy thief.

“Nothing. I ate it all.” You continued to back up as he stood. Nothing about this was serious, though, considering the shit-eating grins on either of your faces.

He was on you in a second, gently pushing you onto the couch, tickling your sides to coerce your hands from your pockets. It worked, and you raised your hands in surrender, ready to give up your candy stash to him. He tickled you for just a minute longer, realizing he’d never heard you laugh like this before, realizing how much he liked it.

He gave up, searching your pockets, pulling free a handful of Kit-Kats and peanut butter cups. “Thanks, princess.” He tickled your side again and planted a kiss on your forehead before plopping down beside you and throwing a leg over yours.

Across the room, Eddie looked at Jeff. “You seein’ this?” Jeff nodded.

“I think our boy’s in deep,” Eddie told him, snubbing out his cigarette.

————

You pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot driving around to park outside of the doors where Dustin usually came out. You pressed the light on above your head so you could see your book, considering Dustin was always late no matter what time he told you to pick him up. A little while later, you heard the doors open, but didn’t look up, knowing he’d find his ride eventually.

Turns out, that was everyone else leaving. Gareth and Dustin had stayed to clean up, and when they finally got outside Dustin followed Gareth to his car so he could pick up some extra dice from him.

Gareth hopped in the driver’s seat, leaning over to open the glove box, but he decided to turn the car on first and let it warm up. And nothing. It wouldn’t start. Dustin asked him if it was something or other, but Gareth stopped him. “No, man. I know exactly what it is. The fuckin’ battery has been on its last leg forever. I guess tonight it decided to depart for good.” Gareth mumbled a “Shit,” under his breath as he grabbed the dice, but when he turned around, Dustin was gone.

The thud of hands on the window startled you and made you jump. Dustin yanked the door open. “Gareth’s car won’t start! You’re the only one left. Think we can give him a ride home?” By that point, the boy in question had made his way over looking for Dustin.

“Dude! Don’t just offer that up to her! She’s probably got shit to do.” He stopped in front of the two of you. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to. I can call Eddie or my mom or something.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s totally fine. I’m right here and there’s no reason for you to do that. I can take you home.”

“You sure?” You told him you were, and told Dustin he had to sit in the back, ignoring his protests.

It really wasn’t a problem, he only lived a little past you and Dustin, and it didn’t bother you to drive an extra five minutes. Not for him. You were about halfway there when Dustin exclaimed, “That son of a bitch! Piece of shit!” from the backseat.

“What?” You asked, confused, but used to his antics.

“We have to stop at Mike’s. He’s got my folder! The one with all the character sheets! I think my math homework is in there too. Can we please? It’s on the way!” It wasn’t. You’d have to take a detour.

Eventually, you stopped the car outside of the Wheeler’s, Dustin hopping out and barreling towards the door, leaving you and Gareth alone in the car. You’d never been properly alone with him before.

When you turned your head to look at him, he was already looking at you. He really had to stop doing that. You grinned at him and he grinned right back, eyes creasing, cheeks reddening.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you this now before he gets back. You’re so pretty. So pretty. I’ve been thinkin’ about you since Halloween.” He started messing with the rips in his jeans, obviously nervous.

“You think that? That’s really sweet. I think you’re pretty too, Gareth.” His head jerked up to you.

“You think I’m pretty?” You nodded at him.

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.” He leaned over the center console and smacked a sweet and noisy kiss on your forehead, then another on your cheek.

“Sorry. You deserved that.” You burst out laughing, finding it hard to believe he could feel this way about you, but deciding to welcome it anyhow.

The two of you just looked at each other for a few minutes, and he went to say something, just as Dustin burst back into the car. “Alright! Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

————

Dustin was eating lunch a few days later when Eddie asked him, “Why don’t you invite your sister to sit with us? She hangs around enough, feels weird to have her sit alone.” He was kinda confused at the offer, even though it made sense. Dustin just guessed maybe you liked being alone during lunch, that you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on your book with them. But he took Eddie up on the offer, pattering over to you and presenting the situation at hand.

“Dustin, I’m not going to do that and interrupt you and your friends. You don’t need me in your life like that.” He quirked a brow, realizing that you thought he didn’t want you around like that.

“What? Come on, Y/N. I want you to sit with me and my friends. Let’s go. You can bring Mr. Bingley with you and everything.” He picked up your lunch box and book for you, leading the way.

When you made it to the designated Hellfire table, Eddie pulled out the seat between him and Gareth, bending at the waist. “M’lady.” You snorted and thanked him. Dustin set your lunch down in front of you and then your copy of Pride and Prejudice, fondly patting the cover, before plopping down across from you.

Eddie smirked at himself for getting you over here, having specifically chosen your seat. He was determined to help his boy out.

“What are we reading?” Eddie asked, leaning over to read the cover. He hummed in interest, but you were positive he was just humoring you. “Would you recommend it?” You laughed.

“Only if you’re willing to explore a period romance. But you might like it, you never know.” He grinned at you, smile lines appearing around his mouth. Eddie Munson was too charming for his own good.

“It’s actually pretty good,” the voice to your right said.

You turned to look at Gareth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Gare, but why do you know that?” He laughed.

“My sister is fond of a bedtime story and wanted me to read it to her. But when I started she had all these questions and I couldn’t answer them, so we put it on pause and then I read it so she could have the full experience.” He shook his hands for emphasis. That was so sweet you felt like you could throw up.

“What?” He was looking at you and you were looking right back, but you realized you must’ve looked how you felt: practically fucking in love.

You straightened. “Nothing. That’s just kind of lovely?” His knee bumped yours under the table, his cheeks getting increasingly more rosy by the minute. You felt like reaching out and brushing your thumb along the spattering of freckles on his nose.

“Okay, now I’m feeling left out. Would you lend it to me?” Eddie asked you, feeling properly scandalized.

“Sure, Edward. You can have it in a few days. I’m almost done anyways, but I’ve read it a hundred times. If there are crumbs in the pages, no there aren’t.”

“I don’t mind. My copy of The Hobbit is missing half of the back cover.”

For the remainder of lunch, you gladly put Jane aside to indulge the boys in all their queries addressing the so-called interests you shared with Dustin.

“Daredevil? Really?” Gareth and you had started to slip into your own conversation, the rest of them arguing over some minuscule campaign detail.

“Yeah, you don’t like him?” You finished off a bag of grapes, offering Gareth your last two.

“No, no I do! Just guess I figured you’d like Captain America or Iron Man. Didn’t have you pegged as a sucker for vigilantes.”

“Oh, I do like Cap and Iron Man. Very much so. I guess I just like the color red.” You looked down at your hands, trying not to make eye contact with him following your attempt at a flirty comment.

Your nail picking was interrupted as Gareth’s hand slipped into yours. You’d been thinking about the warmth of his palm against your own since Halloween. The way his fingers rubbed over your knuckles. How reassuring it was to be in his grasp. You looked up at his gesture. “Is that so?” He squeezed your hand, moving your clasped fingers to rest on his thigh.

“Yeah. The ones in red are always the prettiest.”

————

The noise carrying down the hall was predictable, but starting to annoy you still. You were almost finished with your English essay, but you couldn’t concentrate. Not with the loud voice of the dungeon master or dice clattering or Dustin’s ear-piercing shrieks. You didn’t want to be a dick, but you were going to have to sneak out of your room.

You opened the door, following the sound. You took in the party and all it’s glory as you weaved around the table that had been put up in the living room. They were all too immersed in the game to notice you anyhow. You made it into the kitchen, opening the cabinet and reaching up to grab medicine for the headache you now had. You’d just downed the pills when you glanced over at the table again and met Gareth’s eyes. “You okay?” He mouthed.

You tapped your head in response, finishing the last of the water in your cup before setting it in the sink. You didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled down your bare legs as you escaped back to your room.

Safely back in your place of refuge, you grabbed your keys and slipped on shoes, deciding that maybe a milkshake would help you concentrate on the rest of your homework.

You made it down the hall again, walking to the door. Your hand was on the knob when a voice said, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to be babysitting me.”

You turned around to face Dustin, everyone’s eyes on you. “None of your business, dusty bun. There are plenty of people to babysit you here anyways.” You flipped him the bird when he rolled his eyes and hurried out the door.

Sitting in your room, milkshake—which you’d snuck back into the house—almost finished, there was a knock at the door. You knew it wasn’t Dustin because he’d never knocked a day in his life—only ever shouting before busting through an entrance. “Yeah?”

The door gently pushed open, and you saw his curls before you saw the rest of Gareth. “Am I interrupting?” You nodded your head. “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

You’d finished your essay and were now doing homework for your science class before you called it a night. Gareth wandered into your room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the desk next to you. “Need something?”

“Just wanted to see if your head was okay. I know we get loud.” You laughed at him.

“It’s better now. Besides, I’m used to it. Just couldn’t concentrate.” His eyes met your milkshake cup, and he was suddenly aghast.

He looked at you, feigning betrayal, “You snuck out to get a milkshake? I’m hurt.” Shit, his eyes were so pretty. Too pretty.

“You contributed to the headache, Gare. You want to try some? There’s a little left.”

“Sure.” He said. You took another sip and then offered it to him, but he shook his head. “Not like that.”

And then he was leaning down to meet you, fingers lifting your chin. Gareth planted his lips on yours, grinning, obviously proud of himself. His lips were softer than you expected, assuming they’d be a bit like his hands, but either way they were gone much too fast.

“Pretty damn good milkshake.” You knew you were beet red, but you didn’t care. You stood, putting your hands on his cheeks and kissing him again, smiling the whole time. When you pulled away, you ran your thumb along the freckles on his nose, like you’d been wanting to.

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[the-bleeding-weave]

So ive been thinking of bloodweave (as usual) and i was listening to one of my fav songs, Hyacinthus by Aidoneus and i got an idea.

The song tells the greek tale of Hyacinthus and Apollo the sun god. Hyacinthus was a mortal spartan hero who was renowned for his strength and beauty. He caught the attention of Apollo who quickly fell deeply in love with him and Hyacinthus reciprocated. They quickly became inseparable, playing games together, Apollo taking him on rides in his solar chariot, they were madly in love. Until one day they were playing a game where Apollo went to throw a discus to Hyacinthus but unintentionally hit him fatally in the head. Apollo tried everything to heal him, even feeding him ambrosia as a last resort but none of it worked, and Hyacinthus died in his arms.

Apollo was so grief stricken he begged Hades to kill him so he could be with his lover but him being a god that was impossible. So he mourned for many years, lamenting the fragility of his mortal lover.

Now why do i bring this up with regards to bloodweave? Well first and foremost Astarion is obviously near immortal and Gale is a mortal human man. Humans are one of the shortest lived races in Faerûn, living only about 80 to 100 years. Meanwhile, astarion is a vampire who could theoretically live forever.

The following is a short little fic i wrote based on this thought and i figured itd be fun to use it to explore their personalities, including the less healthy aspects of their relationship 😈

The stars danced and shimmered across the sky like micca powder in sunlight, the light of the moon bathing two lovers sitting on a hillside. One of the men, Gale, turned his head to speak to Astarion.

"You know I've noticed how... anxious you've become recently. You've grown very protective of me, not that I mind of course. I appreciate your affection, I really do. I've never felt this comfortable with someone in my life."

"Is there a problem? Am I coming off as aggressive?" Astarion sat up almost startling Gale.

"No no no, it's ok! You're not doing anything wrong. I was going to say that, well... I'm worried about you. You're obviously very very stressed out about something related to me and I want to know what it could be."

Astarion thought for a while in silence, staring into the distance.

"I've been thinking about you and it hit me that... one day you will die, and there will be nothing I can do to save you."

Gale sat up at attention.

"I will continue to live for centuries and remain just as vibrant and alive as I am today, but you will only get weaker and weaker for the next 60 to 70 years," Astarion began to choke up, "you will get sick one day and no antidote or healing spell in the universe will be able to save you. And I will have to watch helplessly as you suffer."

Gale leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder, but before he could speak Astarion continued.

"I can't bear the thought of losing you, humans are so so fragile. I... I love you more than anything in this bloody universe and it is fucking agonizing knowing one day I will be forced to spend the rest of my eternity without you," his words were strangled by tears.

Gale finally cut him off with a firm hug, hushing him in his ear.

"I hear you, I know there must be some way we can fix it. And I will do everything in my power to find it. I... I haven't felt more accepted and understood in my whole life since I met you, I want to see every beautiful thing you have to offer," he pulled away enough so he could press their foreheads together, "I will move continents if it means we can stay together, I promise."

Astarion sniffled as Gale kissed away the tears on his cheeks. He reveled in Astarion's love, for the first time he felt needed, he had sufficient confirmation that he was enough. Astarion, a man so famously hard to break, was openly sobbing at the prospect of losing him. In the same way he hurt to see his lover cry, he also felt an overwhelming tidalwave of relief.

[feministdragon]

Let’s talk motherhood for a second. 

In modern mainstream feminism, the goal is understood to be ‘equality’ with men, in which is meant several things:  equal treatment as human beings, equal social role to men in society, and economic parity with men.   They are looking to be treated as equal economic actors, who take on equal roles for caring for the home and interchangable parenting roles. 

Our experience in the past thirty to forty years has shown that this is impossible, and not because of women’s inability to fulfill these roles (women have proven themselves equal to or superior to men in every field of work they have entered), but because of men’s refusal to participate in this great levelling of humanity into equality and reciprocity. 

Men don’t want women to have equal pay, or it would have happened by now.  Men don’t want to participate equally in home care, or it would have happened by now.  Men want equal parenting roles when it comes to the fun stuff or having the power over children, but rarely want to squat in the trenches with the cleanup, the nitty-gritty of child care, the day-to-day work.  They want this to be optional, so there ends up being a female full-time parent and a male part time one, even when the majority income earner is the woman. 

In trying to take on the same social role as men, women are trying to reduce the impact of motherhood on their lives, using money and other womens’ labor to reduce their workload, so they can continue attempting the social role of men.   They are dealing with the extreme of their body’s hard labor to create a new human being, while trying to pretend that it wasn’t that much work and hadn’t impacted their social value (which rests in creating an appearance of well-being and sexual availability through other extreme means).   

But motherhood is such an extreme change in a woman’s life, that trying to go on as before, or trying to go on mimicking male economic status, is a near-impossible task.  You have gone through incredible psychological and physiological changes, and yet you are expected, and expect of yourself, to go on as if nothing much has changed, pursuing male economic status while still projecting the ideals of femininity (effortless, sexy, beautiful, only surface level, uncomplicated emotions that place no burden on anyone).   Women are minimizing the beauty and joy, ugliness and pain, awfulness and wonder of motherhood by trying to make it conform to the ideas marketed to us through the male eyes of what motherhood should look like.

In the face of this impossible burden, women are forced to outsource the care labor of a child because a single woman at home with a baby for 20 out of 24 hours in the day is not a healthy situation for either the mother or the child.   Human beings evolved in caretaking groups for a reason, and that’s because people are supposed to care for each other, and also be cared for.   The mother is taking care of the child, yes, but who is taking care of the mother?   Only the mother, and maybe sometimes the father, but most often the father expects to continue to be cared for by the mother/wife as he had before the baby was born.  

How do you take care of yourself and also a child and a household and a man, while recovering from intense trauma to your body and intense changes to your life and the amount of work expected of you, while being nearly completely isolated from contact with other people, and also maintain your humanity?   Men point out that we now have labor-saving machines, but this is hardly the point, as labor-saving machines neither interact with the children nor provide companionship and care for the mother.  This situation is untenable for women, and so of course they must look for other solutions, such as external childcare in the form of nannies, babysitters, daycare centers, or shipping the child off to grandparents. 

But in this way the beautful connections between people are strained, and further alienated from each other by strict accountings of value and price now that our economy has evolved to selling our time and mental energy as well as our labor.  Instead of childcare being a communal project, where everyone’s contribution is a gift to each other and the community, we must constantly protect our self interest and strictly account for the value of everyone’s time, in order to make sure that everyone’s economic interest is covered, because no one can afford to be taken advantage of.  Literally, in today’s economy, if you do not make sure you are paid for every moment of your working time, it’s quite difficult to keep a roof over your head and food on your plate.

This situation of extreme burden to women, has been forced onto us by the rules of the market economy, an economic system invented by men and for men, under which society has been subsumed for the last 250 years.   The market economy wants all the economic actors to operate as independent, self-interested units that compete with each other for resources and whose contributions supposedly miraculously balance out.

The market economy was built around the previous econonmic epoch’s concept of autarchy, where each male was the head of an economic unit—the household—comprised of reproductive slaves, household slaves, the next generation of males (future heads of household), and the next generation of both reproductive and household slaves.  The men each represented an individual political and econonmic unit in society, and the household behind each man was subsumed into his representational unit.  The women, children and slaves were only economically counted in terms of the patriarch they were attached to. 

With the partial economic emancipation of women through the work of the second wave feminists in the 1970s, women were released into the economy, which disrupted this paradigm of men as sole earners and political units that everyone else was dependent upon.   At first the men were upset to have the competition, but capitalism as a system quickly realised the benefit of this new group of lower-wage workers, as they could be both marketed to and drawn from in the labor market, and more cheaply.  For this and other structural reasons, wages were lowered in real terms, and it again became common for two incomes to be necessary in many if not most households, but the cultural framework did not evolve, meaning women who entered into reproductive partnership with men were still doing the major part of work of the household, housework and childcare, while also doing their part to earn money for the household.  

[meditating-dog-lover]

Awkward girl with strict parents and constant rejection

Growing up I was an "awkward girl" with a strict dad. This led me to experience bullying in school and even at home. And it wasn't fun. I also wasn't allowed to date nor really socialize much (I was but I wasn't allowed to really go anywhere). I was also heavily socially and romantically excluded by peers. People would not include me in social circles and guys would laugh at me whenever I expressed any interest in them. This happened over a decade ago, but the rejection still stings.

Despite my tough upbringing and "awkward" personality, I absolutely did not deserve that treatment and I will always maintain that belief. I also did not deserve to have a strict dad who deprived me from a lot of fun experiences growing up. I eventually graduated from high school (12 years ago) and worked on establishing myself so I can have some freedom and independence away from my dad (from an academic, career-wise, and financial point because those 3 things guarantee autonomy).

I also worked on my health and my personal style, which made me "better looking", even on my social skills to a degree. I've received compliments on my appearance, from both girls and even guys. Despite this, I still feel awkward and insecure, like this wasn't something I was used to growing up. Despite how I appear externally, I still feel confused and insecure internally. Like those feelings from school never really went away.

A confident woman would accept those compliments, but to me it feels a bit odd. But because I've been so deprived of compliments and connections growing up, I really do appreciate them and positively take them to heart. When a seemingly attractive guy says I'm very pretty, of course I'm going to think about that for weeks, even months. I do want to be confident of course, but that's something I'm still working on (I'm doing a great job on improving).

As I said, since I have experienced rejection and humiliation from guys growing up, I find it surprising when a seemingly attractive guy compliments me. And it has happened recently too. I'm not someone who develops feelings very easily out of fear of getting hurt. I've never been in love, but I've definitely had feelings of infatuation before. Frequently as a child/teen, rarely as an adult. I consider myself to be an intelligent person, but whenever this happens, my brain melts as if I drop 50 IQ points. Like I turn into a young schoolgirl. So when the feelings are "reciprocated", I do feel that plus I feel insecure and awkward. I've been deprived of this when I was younger and I didn't deserve that (both due to social rejection and isolation and because I had a strict dad who didn't let me date). So I don't know how to "manage" these emotions. I also appreciate when it happens because it serves as a "fuck you" against those who rejected me, where I feel like their rejection and isolation failed and I can finally be appreciated, included and loved. Also I've always felt shameful due to how my parents raised me. So while I love the reciprocation and attention, I also feel like "why do you feel this way about me? I'm awkward and shameful and not that attractive". Being told I'm very pretty, gorgeous, and even sexy (yes I've been called that before) feels so unusual.

It does involved working on my confidence, I will find love, reciprocation, and validation in life. I just want it to be in a healthy manner where it doesn't make me drop 50 IQ points and act juvenile and goofy (which is so weird coming from me given how I generally present myself in person and on here). I won't let my dad and bullies take this confidence journey away from me. It's a work in progress, but I need to let myself know I'm beautiful and deserve love and validation and autonomy and success. And all the compliments I receive despite them feeling awkward. I do want a deep loving relationship in the future, but if I'm getting compliments from guys at the moment, then I'll happily accept them, even from girls.

[thewhumperinwhite]

WKW: The Voice That Shakes The Stones (Part 2)

Continued directly from this, but will make more sense if you've also read The Rose Queen parts 1 and 2.

This one follows part one in terms of getting some plot stuff out of the way up top and then some Really Heavy Whump in the back half lmao

TW for: broken bones (including ribs and spine), blood, aftermath of beating/caning, past/referenced child abuse, referenced parental death, referenced decapitation, Again Broken Bones To The Extent That It Is Essentially Body Horror.

----

Morden raises a sculpted eyebrow at Tern. “Been opening my mail, have you?”

Tern looks at him; or at least Morden assumes he does. Tern wears an elaborately constructed mask sewn out of feathers and leather and bone, and removes it very rarely.

“I open everyone’s mail,” Tern says.

Morden knows this, of course. He has no secrets to keep from his own Falconers, and if and when such secrets do arise, he will simply have Thorne deliver them. If Morden feels—caught off guard, set on edge, it is no fault of Tern’s, and snapping at his own Scout will not help him feel more in control, anyway. Morden arranges himself more casually at his desk with a bit of effort.

“What do you think of the Lady’s proposal?” he asks, forcing his voice back into its usual light and airy register.

Tern tilts his head. The mask makes him the most actually-birdlike of all the Falconers, a fact Morden usually finds endearing, though he is struggling not to be annoyed by it at the moment.

“It’s my job to know things, not to act on them,” Tern says finally. Which is a letdown after such a long thoughtful pause, even though it is also true. Morden does not roll his eyes, but the temptation is there. “What do you think, Mord?”

Morden sits up straight and brushes his hair from his face. What he thinks is, she must have eyes in the Castle that Morden can’t see, to be able to time this missive so exactly. But that thought is uselessly paranoid—Tern would know, and Tern would tell him—so he is not entertaining it. Or vocalizing it, either.

“I think she’s audacious,” he says instead, which is true. “And I think I had better consider carefully before I think anything much else.” He folds the letter back up, so that he will not keep reading it uselessly over and over, and looks up at Tern, pretending to make eye contact through the mask. “In the meantime, make sure the Prince doesn’t die, will you? I may finally be able to put him to some use.”

Tern nods, and stalks out silently, still in his soft-soled scouting boots.

Morden makes it, optimistically, another five minutes before he unfolds the letter to read it again.

“Your desires have aligned neatly with our own, dear Crane,” reads the now-familiar script, “and the appropriate sacrifices have been made.”

Morden has not yet opened the accompanying jeweled and gilded casket, but the size and heft of it—and, more importantly, the smell—makes him fairly confident he knows what will be inside.

“A healthy partnership ought be reciprocal, however,” the letter goes on.

Morden chews his thumbnail, a nervous habit he does not often indulge. He scolds himself; he is only now realizing how he has begun to enjoy his exchanges with the Rose Queen, how they have begun to feel so like a game of chess against an interesting opponent as to make him forget the stakes. It has left him feeling—exposed, now, at best; trapped if he is not careful.

He needs to make a plan.

----

This is not part of Crow’s job.

It’s all very well for Tern, who relays Crane’s instructions—“Fix up the Summer Prince; the White Crane had his fun and now wants not to play with broken toys”—and then scurry off with the excuse of some Important Scouting Duty, which Crow suspects is probably bullshit.

When Morden introduces the Falconer’s, he says that Crow’s job is “Throatcutter,” the one who makes sure everyone’s theatrics have resulted in actual corpses at the end of every ambush and skirmish. And although that isn’t all he does—far from it—that is certainly part of his job. If the White Crane had said, “I’m too busy to finish killing the Summer Prince, finish that up for me, will you?” Crow would have done it, and with a whistle and a spring in his step.

Crow is built for ending lives, it’s truly what he’s best at. He doesn’t prolong pain on purpose; he isn’t Raven. Once a creature is past a certain threshold of injury, keeping it alive becomes—boring and sad, and little else.

The Summer Prince flops slightly at Crow’s feet, as if hearing him think this. He is moving like a deboned fish. Sounds a bit like one, as well.

Morden is going to owe him, and Morden doesn’t enjoy owing things, even to his own Falconers. So at least, Crow thinks, there is that.

“I don’t suppose you can walk,” Crow says. He slides the toe of his boot underneath the writhing shape of the Summer Prince, meaning only to nudge him slightly.

There is—more give in the ribs than there should be.

The body at his feet spasms violently as the Prince tries to curl in around himself. He manages to twist his torso in a way that makes Crow’s gorge rise a bit in spite of himself, his handless arm flopping over and up to haphazardly cover his face. His legs don’t move at all.

Crow contemplates, very briefly, the idea of picking the Summer Prince up off the floor and carrying him to Heron’s quarters, or more probably to the Castle’s Healer. He doesn’t mind blood, as a rule. The blood would not be the problem.

The Prince heaves in what must be his first full breath since Crow entered the room several minutes ago. It scrapes audibly against his throat; the effort of taking it arcs his back up off the floor, except that his legs still haven’t moved. Something—either ribs or spine, Crow isn’t sure which—grinds audibly inside him and he loses whatever air he has managed to take in in a single quiet, bubbly-sounding wail.

“Eugh,” Crow says, and turns his back on what is rapidly becoming the corpse of the Summer Prince. Where has that bloody wolf pup got himself to? Cleaning up Morden’s messes is literally that kid’s whole job.

----

(Andry can’t see. He can almost breathe, if he tries very hard. It feels like lifting a very heavy weight, and at the height of each breath there is a sudden stabbing pain in his back, just left of the center, that makes him twitch. He is in—water, maybe. Or anyway his face and shoulders and ears feel wet. His lips feel wet, too, although the inside of his mouth feels very dry indeed.)

(He must have hit his head, he thinks. He knows that burning cracked-egg feeling well enough, in his temple and below his right ear and on the high point of his opposite cheek. And his back is cracked open that way too, not sharp and bone deep like the whip but broad and blunt and shattered like his father’s cane.)

(His father is—dead, he thinks, around the buzzing in his head, like bees tangled up in cotton wool. The White Crane cut off his father’s head, and Andry could not catch it when it was thrown. And now he cannot even tell if he is sorry. His father did kill him once, after all.)

(He had known where he stood with his father, though. His father was not elegant and smiling, like the White Crane.)

(Although the White Crane was not smiling this time, was he, Andry thinks; no, this time he was angry, and the worst part is that Andry does not even know why.)

(…Andry thinks that is the worst part. Then he tries to move his legs.)

----

Heron is the Falconers’ battlefield medic, and he is not a healer. He has smelling salts in his bag that will get a man to his feet and into the fray with an arrow through the stomach; and skill enough with a needle and a bandage to patch up even serious punctures well enough to heal on their own. He even knows the basic alchemy needed to keep a wound from going septic about seven times out of ten.

In this situation he is useful only in that he has a stretcher he is willing to bring to Thorne’s chamber in exchange for the privilege of seeing a mutilated body.

Crow returns with Thorne and Heron after about five minutes, and it is clear as he nears the threshold and begins to hear the Prince’s breath whistling in and out, like wind blowing across a broken bottle, that the boy has not done him the great favor of dying in the interim.

One of the Prince’s eyes is open when Crow stands over him again, but it is rolled back in his head far enough to hide all but a thin ring of blue-purple iris. The other eye is already swollen too far to open more than a crack. Every time he takes a far-too-audible breath he shudders, violently, exactly twice. His torso is still twisted at that odd angle, as though he has tried to roll over onto his side without lifting his hips.

Thorne has been helping Heron carry the stretcher. When he enters the room he drops his end of it with a loud clatter.

Heron does not seem to notice, though he gamely drops his end of the stretcher, too, so that he can dart closer to the body, his pale eyes glittering behind his physician’s mask.

(Tern and Heron are both masked more often than they aren’t; both masks, as far as Crow is concerned, are products of paranoia. Tern is convinced some authority or other is going to discover his identity, as though that would matter now that he is at the right hand of the conqueror of a whole damned country. Heron is concerned about inhalants. This seems sensible sometimes, even to Crow; Heron takes apart something like a half-dozen cadavers a week in pursuit of his craft. However he also wears the mask when it is just the eight of them alone in the Nest or in their rooms here at the castle, and that seems like overkill to Crow.)

As always, Heron’s hands are light, and clever, and ruthless. He pulls the Prince’s fluttering eyelid up and peers closely into his eye, tipping his head back quite gently. Then he presses his fingers against the Prince’s shattered ribs with slow, deliberate pressure, using his hand in the Prince’s hair to keep the Prince from curling up in a ball at what must be excruciating pain. Heron’s face is quite close to the Prince’s answering gasp. Crow, a safe distance away with his arms crossed, thinks to himself that perhaps Heron wouldn’t need the mask if he was willing to do his job without getting so very close.

When the Prince has relaxed out of his pain-spasm, Heron taps twice on the sharp edge of the Prince’s sharp recently-starved hip bone with a gloved fist. The Prince’s gasp this time is much quieter, more of a hiccup than an airless scream.

When Heron stretches out a booted foot to give the Prince’s calf a not-particularly-gentle kick, the Prince doesn’t react at all.

“That’s interesting,” Heron says, his voice dark with things Crow finds professionally distasteful.

----

Thorne left Andry—what, thirty minutes ago? An hour? Surely no more than that. Thorne left Andry asleep on the couch at the foot of his bed, wrapped in Thorne’s borrowed sheets, curled up like a child with the stump of his missing hand tucked under his chin.

Thorne’s bedsheets are in disarray, now, on the floor in front of the couch. There is blood on them. There seems, at least to Thorne’s suddenly spotty and blurred vision, to be blood more places than there isn’t.

Heron’s hand is on Andry’s throat, now, prodding narrow deep bruise that is forming there. Heron is hovering over Andry with the same excited twitchy over-interest with which he treats any sick or injured person. Thorne is familiar enough with Heron’s attention to remember the growing unease and sick, crawling discomfort it inspires.

He usually finds it easier to look away.

“Well go on,” Crow snaps at him from where leaning against the wall, looking mildly disgusted but little else. “Get him on the fucking stretcher already.”

Thorne’s instinct to obey is honed sharply enough that he moves to follow the order without thinking. So at least there is that relief.

[archivalofsins]

Alright let's do some course correcting. A lot of people seem to have misinterpreted Mahiru. Either assuming the absolute best of her or the worse. We've seen how that ends twice,

So, let's kneecap those high expectations people seem to be having. Because when you keep your expectations high well nothing ever comes out right. So, even if your feet are on the ground let's get those heads out of the clouds and expect the unexpected to avoid the worst.

Even if it's not useful at least it will be fun.

Don't be scared- It's just a fable, a what-if. So, no need to take it too seriously.

Mahiru was not in love with her victim.

They weren't dating.

She is not a sad lover mourning the accidental death of their partner.

I don't think I need to elaborate on most of these things since they've all been explained before. However, there are multiple things that Mahiru has said and done that portray her as not being upset about the death of the person she loved that have gone understated.

Firstly, she's already looking for another partner as she stated within her first trial written interrogation,

Q.07 Is there anyone you’d leave behind if you died?

Shidou: Not any more.

Mahiru: Nobody yet~

She is/has been single and ready to mingle since Milgram started. She's done nothing to hide this fact. She's even been talking to others to plan for a future where she meets someone else and has kids.

20/07/06

Amane: You want to know about my family……? My father is a truly wonderful person. He’s honest, values fairness and justice above all else, and will work himself to the bone for other people’s sake……. Why do you want to know?

Mahiru: Oh, I was just wondering what sort of parents you must have for them to have raised such a good child like you. Fufu, I’ll keep it in mind for the future when I raise my own family.

Amane: I see. If it will be of use to you, I’ll tell you more. It’s still a long way off for me, but for someone your age the prospect of finding a partner and having a family must be feeling a lot more real. Now that I think about it, I recall my mother was around your age when she gave birth to me……

Mahiru: Oof…! Even though you meant no ill with that statement, Mahiru onee-chan is suddenly really feeling the pressure~~!

I don't know how behavior like this could be interpreted as someone grieving the loss of a romantic partner. This usually wouldn't be the top priority of someone who is grieving the loss of anyone at all. Mahiru has very much been giving off the attitude of well that happened whatever moving on from the get-go.

During her first interrogation the way she loves is highlighted clearly,

Es: Being in love and loving someone- are they really that important?

Mahiru: They are.

Es: Hm.

Mahiru: They are...more so than anything else.

Here Mahiru highlights the aspect of love that is most important to her. Which is not for her love to be reciprocated or the relationship being on equal ground. No, it's all about her being able to love and love someone.

This means it is not only possible but likely she was never in love with this guy but in love with the feeling of being in love he gave her. Something highlighted more through the contrast between her and Shidou's answers during the first written interrogation,

Q.09 What do you want from a lover?

Shidou: I want them to stay healthy.

Mahiru: For them to accept my love! That’s all I ask for!

Accept and reciprocate are two different things. You can accept that someone loves you without reciprocating those affections. It's as simple as I see how you feel. However, it's an incredibly difficult thing for college students to do because they tend to be interested in the dating scene.

Having someone around that's behaving as though you're in a relationship when in truth the two of you are not can be a bit restricting and a deterrent to potential romantic pursuits.

This is why the highlighted lines in the "I Love You" teaser are now,

"This can't go on, somethings got to give- I even love saying the words "I love you"."

Because as their relationship stands it would be inappropriate for Mahiru to say these words to him. If they were together there wouldn't be much of a reason for Mahiru to put an emphasis on wanting to say this. She just would be able to because it would be appropriate to do so within the relationship they had.

This is also why This Is How To Be In Love With You has this line,

"I guess we can just say that this feeling is happiness. I can’t stop feeling like there’s something missing- What do you think? I know it's not the type of question you want to be asked."

If Mahiru had already been turned down of course this sort of question would make him flustered, confused, or feel awkward. Because it would be her continuing to hint at wanting more from the relationship after he's made his feelings known.

During This Is How To Be In Love With You, Mahiru leaves if she was turned down or not up to viewers interpretation saying well you can tell what his answer was from my face right,

Yeah, we can. Chances are she was more than likely turned down. Even though she looks happy and is smiling. It's important to take into consideration she's an adult, a college student- What is she going to do break down crying in the middle of a park because her feelings weren't reciprocated? No.

She wouldn't do that not only because she's an adult but because that would break the mature older sister image, she states she's going for through most of the text in her first song and as Mahiru herself has established repeatedly reciprocation isn't what matters to her, what matters is her love being accepted.

Being turned down possibly wouldn't immediately register as bad to her because that doesn't change the way she feels about him or how she feels when she's with him.

Oh, but she went over to his house though. Friends get invited to their friends' houses all the time.

Isn't it odd that just like with the confession response Mahiru gets vague this time as well excusing it by saying she doesn't remember most of it. We only see Mahiru arriving at his house where he very well could have had more friends over.

It's not that farfetched that Mahiru would become overwhelmed by all the new people and her memory would be a bit spotty because of nerves. If you're invited over to the house of the guy you like and are meeting his other friends for the first time of course she'd want to go all out and give a good impression. Even more so if she believes he can grow to love her in the same way she loves him.

This also could explain why she cooked so much food at the end of This Is How To Be In Love With You. Instead of a one a man party like I had previously suspected due to Mahiru's for what we all know bias wording of,

"Before he comes home, I’ve cooked so it’ll be ready waiting for him. I’ve kept notes on all his favorites, and I’ve been practicing cooking them! I can’t wait to see his surprised face when he sees."

That gives this implication that they may have been living together. However, i now realize that Mahiru could just be one-sidedly referring to a meet up she orchestrated under false pretenses. This means she may have a set up a similar thing as he could have when he invited her over to his house a gathering with her friends so he could meet them. Yet, he may not know that Mahiru just moved to Tokyo doesn't know that many people and probably knows no one outside of him and her hairdresser.

We even see Mahiru do something similar within the minigrams to Mikoto and Kazui during the impromptu sleep over.

Everything else- The going to get drinks, the new year's event, jogging together, going to see the location of a film they both like- None of these things are inherently romantic the only thing making it that is how Mahiru herself is framing it.

Then the one thing that was overtly a romantic endeavor the screening of the French film at the park- She had to beg him to go to. This makes a lot of sense if you take into consideration miss, he already said he didn't want this sort of relationship with you- Yet you're inviting him on what is clearly a date.

The worst part is she knows exactly what she's doing- Internally calling it a date while outwardly probably telling him it's nothing like that I just thought it would be fun. Yet, people think Mahiru is stupid. Like sure, sure...

Now, I don't believe that not having a romantic relationship makes what Mahiru did worse or better. Because frankly it would have been murder regardless. Yet, it should be questioned how instead of trying to figure out how the murder occurred or even recognizing that one did- A lot of people made Mahiru's case about her relationship status as though if the two were dating it would excuse her behavior or somehow make it worse.

When truly it doesn't matter not just because she killed someone but because all relationships are give and take. Any relationship regardless of how deep people on the outside looking in find it to be, or how the people in the relationship label it can become toxic under the wrong circumstances.

Propping romantic love/relationships on this pedestal where the only ones who can truly understand it are people that have been there is exactly what Mahiru wanted people to do.

"Do you really think you know what love is? If you do, let’s just overheat together!"

Is the same as Mu saying,

Q.12 Do you think the other prisoners should be forgiven for their “murder”?

Futa: People who resort to violence are shit. You only do stuff like that if you’re stupid.

Mu: If they’re like me and have circumstances that led to it, then I think it’s fine. Nobody can understand a person’s pain but that person themselves.

Like um pardon me but you killed someone. No one can understand what it's like to be murdered other than that person themselves and sadly no one will know their pain because they're no longer around to vocalize it- Like wild fuck you guys. It's funny you want to keep talking even though the people you killed no longer can. That's pure self-justification right there.

Instead of bluntly stating that like Mu did Mahiru goads the audience into agreeing with her. Because if you know what love is, you truly know, then of course you will forgive her. Because it was love after all, she was just being herself, she can't change how she loves just like she can't pick who she falls in love with. Anyone that knows even the littlest thing about love or has felt it before would surely understand.

They'd know those sorts of feelings are uncontrollable. If you say she's wrong, you might as well be saying she shouldn't be alive.

Mahiru: Hmm, if you can't forgive me for what I've done- Then there's no point in living....to be honest.

Es: So, if you can't kill anyone there's no point in you living- Is that what you mean? My, oh my, what a dangerous species you are.

Mahiru: Oh, no! Those words actually sound sort of scary now that I think about it! I don't want to kill anyone nor do anything of the sort but-

Es: Hm

Mahiru: It's because I've... Decided that I'll live for the sake of love.

Es: For the sake of love.

Mahiru: I... Discovered how amazing it was to be in love with someone! It's incredible, you know?! Each and every day seemed to sparkle! And everything became so vibrant! It transforms such mundane sceneries into those out of soap operas and films!

20/06/10-June 10, 2020

Futa: Hey, why are you acting so carefree all the time? You’re the oldest of the girls here, you should act it and deal with the others properly.

Mahiru: Eh~? I’m acting carefree~? But maybe you’re right. I mean, I…… ah, let’s make this a quiz. Hey, Futa-kun. What do you think I like doing? Tick, tick, tick, tick……

Futa: Ahh, what even is this mood you’ve started. It’s annoying. Just tell me the answer already.

Mahiru: Bzzt! Time’s up! The correct answer is “travelling” and “exciting things”~ You don’t get many chances at a lifestyle as exciting as this, right? So, of course I’m going to be a bit carefree, ufufu~

Q.16  How would you define happiness?

Shidou: The promise of an unchanging tomorrow.

Mahiru: When your heart skips a beat.

Mahiru likes the excitement that comes from being in love, the adrenaline. Nothing else. She's looking for a feeling that makes her heartbeat speed up or skip. She's in it for the thrill. Everything involving her highlights this fact. Her interrogation, written interrogation, the portal timeline, the minigrams, even the most recent crossover.

Meaning even when she says things like-

Q.14 If there was one person you could bring back from the dead, who would you choose?

Shidou: I can’t choose.

Mahiru: The person I love.

There's no telling if she wants them back because she loves them or just because she loves the way being around them makes her feel. More things that showcase she is not a grief stricken lover outside of that are these answers from the written interrogation.

Q.05 Who do you dislike most out of the other prisoners?

Shidou: I don’t dislike anyone particularly. However, I think Amane rather dislikes me. Such a shame.

Mahiru: Futa-kun is a bully, so definitely out! Also Mikoto is pretty flippant, he kinda seems like the type who’d cheat~

This way of talking about Fuuta and Mikoto heavily backs up the idea that she's looking for a new romantic partner- And that neither of them are making the cut. Saying that Fuuta is definitely out as an option because he's a bully and Mikoto seems like a cheater so he's no good.

Basically, most of the things she points out as dislikable characteristics are phrased like she's considered them as someone to date and found them lacking, not things one would consider when it comes to just being friends. After all, people wouldn't traditionally want to date a bully or someone who cheats.

She also never expressly says she dislikes them just heavily implies they aren't up to her standards and lists why.

Q.11 Would you rather be the one to confess or be on the receiving end of a confession?

Shidou: I’m the type who thinks it’d be good to do it myself.

Mahiru: I want to do it! Eh~! But I’ve only ever been the one to do it, so I’d maybe like to receive one too!

This answer shows that she's looking for someone to confess to- or, maybe be confessed to by! After all, giving and receiving are both good things! Or if we go by how focused she is with the adrenaline that being in love gives you, then maybe she'd also like to experience it from the other perspective- To see what it's like from that side, but there's also the possibility of it being 'fresher' that way. Since it's not something she's experienced before there's less likelihood of being desensitized to it.

It should be noted that unlike Shidou whose answer is from a self-reflective standpoint Mahiru answers immediately and excitedly with the words, "I want to do it!". Making it likely that she's already found someone within Milgram who she wants to confess to. It's basically her admitting that she wants to confess to someone already.

Which makes sense given her interactions with Kazui-

20/06/19

Kazui: By the way…… thanks, Shina-chan. You keep going around and talking to people to make sure the mood never gets too sour, right? It’s a big help. We’re all in here together, after all. If a fight broke out the whole group could fall apart.

Mahiru: ……eh? Huh~? Ah, no, I’m just talking to people because I personally want to talk. All the kids are so cute, so I can’t help but want to fuss over them! A fight, huh… But if that ever happened, then you’ll definitely be a big help, right~? Since you’re so big! And buff!

Kazui: Ahh, no. I mean, I’ll do what I can. Based on appearance, as long as nobody has a weapon, I think I can probably get everyone under control…… No, we should just hope that nothing like that ever happens.

Mahiru: You know, I quite like watching martial arts, actually. I don’t really get it, but it looks super cool. Hi-yah! Hi-yah!

Seem familiar-

"Today I started talking to him by chance, and he told me that his hobby is running. Without thinking I took a chance where I saw it and told him “I’m interested too!”. So, now we’re going to go running together. Even though I’m really bad at exercise…… I’ve never run so much in my life. Totally exhausted. Don’t lose focus even when exercising! The pastel tones mean not only do you look ready to go but also give off a cute oneesan appeal."

20/08/02

Mahiru: Yeah, I’m asking for what you like in the opposite sex! I mean, with a lifestyle like this we have a lot of free time, right? So earlier when I was talking with all the other girls we got onto the topic! It’s not often you get a chance like this to live with a mix of men and women together- So, I thought it might be nice to use the chance to talk about stuff like this in preparation for when we leave.

Kazui: Ah…… Haha, I understand. I can see that’d be the sort of thing girls your age would be interested in, huh. How peaceful. What I like in the opposite sex… I don’t know if what I say will really be a good reference for you…… Ah, you know, since I’m at this age. I like a girl who can just smile free of worries. Seeing that’d make my old, tired heart feel young again.

Yuno: Uh-huh, I see, I see. ……that’s a total lie, right?

Kazui: Haha…… Give me a break here. You sure don’t make things easy for people, Kashiki-chan.

21/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kazui: Oh, Shina-chan? How scandalous, coming to a man’s room in the middle of the night like this. Well, not that it’s really a room, just a cell. ……just kidding, since you brought some drinks with you, I’m assuming you’ve come to wish me a happy birthday, right? Thank you.

Mahiru: Yep! Happy birthday Kazui-san~ Clap clap clap! But as well as that~ ……I also just maybe wanted to use it as an excuse so I could ask you for some advice over drinks, I suppose?

Kazui: Advice, huh. Well, you’re more than welcome, but I don’t really know what advice an old man like me could give you. I haven’t got the first clue about what love is like for a young girl nowadays.

Mahiru: Ahaha…… Don’t worry, much as I’d love to talk about that too, um…… er, Kazui-san. You know, recently I’ve been having the same dream every day. Lots of people were denying my actions…… Denying my thoughts…… that sort of dream.

Mahiru is a lot less short with Kazui than she is with the other guys within Milgram. She's already said Futa and Mikoto were no good and her interest in Shidou is nonexistent-

20/06/08

Mahiru: Shidou-san…… you’re really good-looking. Personally, I think you’d be better if you ate a bit more, but you’re slim and tall, and well put together to boot…… You must’ve been super popular up until now, right?

Shidou: ……yeah, that’s true…… I did my share of fooling around in the past.

Mahiru: Oh~? That’s not the sort of answer I’d expect from you. I’ve got it! Somebody told you that if you replied like that people wouldn’t resent you so much, right?

Shidou: Haha, I’m surprised you guessed. ……it seems that no matter what guise I put on, it’s meaningless against a woman’s insight.

Literally went up to the guy and said he's not her type. So, I feel safe saying Mahiru has set her eyes firmly on Kazui. They get along pretty well but given how things have gone and well Kazui's line of,

"I feel bad for her." Mahiru might once again be barking up the wrong tree. However, great taste none the less. Kind of funny to think about the person who loves love more than anything else getting a crush on the guy singing,

"Love + Fate= Crap. Crush and Bye." but here we are.

Mahiru may be stuck in Milgram, but she's still looking for love. Nothing can keep her down long except us telling her that her entire reason for being is wrong. There was even a question in the first written interrogation that she answered that hinted towards this possibility.

Q.20 What do you think about smoking?

Shidou: I often get stopped and told it’s bad for my health. I smoke because I want to be unhealthy, though.

Mahiru: I’ve never smoked myself- But, if the person I like did, then I might start to be like them!

At the point this question was asked these events had already transpired in the timeline.

20/06/20

Mikoto: ……oh, so you are here after all. Shidou-san, are you free? Let’s chat~

Shidou: ! Ah, just give me a moment…… Um…… I don’t mind talking, but you didn’t need to come over while I was smoking. Are you sure it isn’t too smoky for you? You’re not a smoker, right, Kayano-kun?

Mikoto: Ah, you don’t need to put it out! That’d be such a waste! I smoke too occasionally. Though just vape. Like, the smoking room is a really good spot for communication, right? So, I thought now might be a good opportunity to talk with you. Not like I have anything else to do. By the way, I’ve been wondering for a while, but do you always wear those gloves?

Shidou: I don’t……How to put it…… I suppose…… since I have my hands covered all the time, then when I take them off, it feels as though the feeling in my fingertips is even greater…… I know it’s probably all in my head…… but that’s how it feels.

20/08/04

Mikoto: By the way, why did you two start smoking? For me it was just a means for communication with people at work.

Kazui: Hm? I don’t really remember…… It’s maybe changed nowadays, but in the past, it was just natural for everyone to smoke. What about you, Shidou-kun? Do you remember?

Shidou: ……I wonder. I suppose…… I just wanted to do something that was bad for me.

Mikoto: Ahh, I kinda get that. It’s like eating instant ramen in the middle of the night.

Making Mikoto, Shidou, and Kazui known smokers at the time of this written interrogation. We can gather from what Mahiru says about both Mikoto and Shidou that neither of them are the smoker she could have a crush on.

Meaning through the beautiful process of elimination we've successfully deduced the smoker she likes is Kazui and if she was not voted Guilty and put under immense mental stress she might have started smoking.

With all this we've gone beyond to prove our three points and then some. So, try not to be too surprised and hold those kneejerk reactions back a little this month. Because life is much more interesting if Mahiru is voted Innocent instead of Guilty.

Plus, personally I'm sick of this stupid cycle of wait they didn't do anything wrong you're just looking at it in a bad light video comes out proving they in fact did something wrong- Fuck this character they tricked me Guilty! No, sometimes people just play themselves. Don't do this to Mahiru too, she's been through enough.

Like I feel bad for her too Kazui I really do...

[cordycepsfem]

I saw this post on my "normie" blog and I have a couple of thoughts about it.

So there's a few things I boxed off because they jumped out at me.

1.) "Being openly queer" - OP is "genderqueer" and "aroace." I assume that by being "openly queer" on campus they wear a style of clothing and hair we're all too familiar with, accompanied perhaps by many pronoun pins and pride flags no one recognizes. Because what else is there beyond stereotypes? OP is straight "queer," which is meaningless, but I'm glad they've found that they're able to wear the clothes they like at college.

2.) The phrase "not being able to participate" when others are having a conversation about significant others was odd to me. OP can participate in a conversation about that, even if they don't have a reciprocal side of the conversation focused on their own romance/dates/etc. If you don't want to be a good friend and listen, then tell your friend that and leave. But it sounds more like you're jealous that you can't participate... because this is not the response of a supportive friend, it's the response of someone who desperately wants to have something to share.

3.) "This is supposed to be the least lonely time of my fucking life." Citation hella needed. College is not a series of cookie-cutter experiences for everyone. For some people it's another rung of high-school-level socializing and social enjoyment, and for some people it's a serious time when major events happen that change their lives, and for some people it just is what it is, and things go on more or less as planned. There is no certain guarantee that you are meant to have tons of friends in college.

The thing I didn't box off because it just sort of runs through OP's post is the sad "pity me" vibes. Oh, it's so sad that people my age are doing things most people my age do - I have to watch TV, can you believe it (girl, you have a sideblog for "Good Omens," nobody thinks you're a poor little meow meow for watching it again)? Oh, I don't want people I call my friends to be happy, I wish they'd come to the library with me instead. Oh, I can't figure out how tables work, so I can't bring a chair into the group without feeling like an outsider... really?

I understand OP is young and there's a lot of growing up to do in college. But one thing you should be prepared to learn ASAP is that for the vast majority of your college peers, dating and romance is going to be a thing. You understanding this now is, weirdly, the most "queer" thing about you.

For some LGB people, dating is hard. They might be closeted. They might be afraid of social attitudes. They might live somewhere it's not safe. They might not know how to find others like them. They definitely know that the majority of people in their peer group are heterosexual, because the majority of people are heterosexual. And maybe some of those LGB people are also out here making "pity me" posts, but I didn't see any of those, so this one will have to do.

Being "aroace" takes you out of a lot of situations that the majority of a peer group will get into. It's not your fault, and you're not "broken" for feeling that way, but you need to be honest with your friends and honest with yourself. If you can't stand to hear someone talk about a relationship, is that healthy? Can you be a good friend to someone if you can't hear them talk about a very normal, socially acceptable topic?

Let me provide an example. I don't drink, but I have friends who like to drink when we go out. I don't judge them for it, or act like I should be pitied or that somehow their drinking makes my social life lesser. Is it sometimes annoying that they always want to go to a bar or somewhere there's drinks? Sure. Can I ask them to do other things with me instead if I'm not feeling bar night? Of course - and we do lots of other things together. Is it socially acceptable to go until it's no longer fun for me and then just leave? Yep, and they're A-OK with that. None of us make a big deal about it.

I hope OP finds a way to make life bearable, and finds friends who are willing to make the kind of social agreements that keep her comfortable and her friends engaged... because demanding that her friends never go out and never talk about relationships will lose her all of them extremely quickly.

[lovipop2049]

fanfic request: henderhop as prom king & queen

FULL FIC HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44006433 !

Heres a snippet :). Also there is some small byler crumbs here and there but mainly henderhop! sorry it took so long these past few days have beennnn wow

-

In spring of 1987, things started to calm down. After Vecna was defeated, the town worked together for what seemed like eternity to finish rebuilding Hawkins. Plenty of things changed, shops demolished, familiar hangout spots turned into shelters and buildings, but one thing stayed the same. 

Hawkins High school, a nightmare for some, memories and fun for others. Of course, as soon as everything was normal again, the kids had to go back to school. And there was prom. A dance that happened every year, of course, but this one was special. In some weird way, it also celebrated the hardships and trauma the town of Hawkins went through. Some sort of final celebration for what everyone had overcome, how they’ve become better people.

Unfortunately, though, the Byers family had to get back to California. As much as they were happy for the reconstruction of Hawkins and their tremendous victory, it was safer where they used to live. Even though there was no possible threat here, Joyce was paranoid. 

Lucas, Mike, and Dustin were the most devastated out of everyone.

Lucas would miss Will and El. He shared lots of good memories with them. He would miss Jonathan too, as he was practically there for his whole life, when taking Will to campaigns and watching them to make sure nothing happened. He was sad that it was time to part ways; possibly for good.

The Byers family spoke of possible plane visits, but it was just false hope. It was already going to cost so much for them to go back to California, it would take a long time for them to get back on their feet. And even then, frequent visits were not a possibility. It was depressing, but everyone knows nothing lasts forever, after all.

Mike would miss Will the most. He was already grieving, even though they hadn’t left just yet. During battle, a panicked Mike poured his heart out to Will. He was so worried Will would die, and he realized he’d been neglecting their relationship. After the battle, the two reconnected and got together over time. 

But Dustin was the most anxious. A weird reaction to someone leaving, as you’d expect them to be upset or crying. And Dustin was upset, but he was also planning something.

Over the years, he’s had a huge crush on El. Once she became Mike’s girlfriend, he quickly seeked a way to get over her. He had a girlfriend for a while, he focused on other people, he made new friends such as Eddie and Steve, but nothing was enough to get over his feelings for El. 

The second he realized Mike and El got together, his heart shattered like glass. He, of course, didn’t want to strain the party’s bond more than it already was, so he kept it cool. But all he felt was regret for not telling her of his feelings beforehand. 

Now there was a similar feeling once again. 

Mike and El agreed their relationship wasn’t healthy and they shouldn’t have been together in the first place. They agreed to stay as friends, and that they loved each other, but not romantically. They weren’t meant to be together. 

Dustin felt like an asshole, but he was more than thrilled when he heard about their breakup. He was incredibly excited to finally confess to someone he’d been pining over for five years. 

But he kept putting it off, kept overthinking and getting scared, and now that the family said they would be moving, he knew he had to do something.

Because even if El rejected him, he’d most likely never see her again. He needed to finally say something, get those feelings out. If El did reciprocate, he’s handled long distance before. It was fine for him. El did, too, even though the person she was with wasn’t exactly the greatest for her. 

So he finally had an idea. Since prom was coming up, he’d ask her to go with him. He already told his friends, they told theirs, and because everyone wanted to make it a special final day for El, they voted for her to be prom queen. Dustin was voted as prom king in addition. He was really hoping El felt the same.

It was now May 25th, the day before prom. Joyce went with Dustin to help him buy a suit and a bouquet of flowers. 

Now he was pacing in his home. He had his hair done, his suit on and his bouquet in hand. He was waiting for his ride. He didn’t know what to say, or when to say it, or how to say it. He’d been practicing with Steve on what to do, and Steve tried so hard to give him advice, but he kept thinking of the worst possible scenarios. 

Steve offered to give him a ride to El’s house, but he didn’t know how else to help. So now it was up to Dustin to come up with the perfect thing to say.

[normanbased]

TELL US ABOUT THE AU /nf

OKAY!! So as some base line context — It’s set a few months after Psycho II. Emma Spool doesn’t exist, Lila killed all the people who died in Psycho II (except Dr Raymond who lived). Norman and Mary essentially defended each other from Lila in the final fight and Lila is gunned down by the police.

If anyone wants to send any asks about my AU pls feel free to!! I’d be happy to answer them :]]

Mary and Norman are both injured and end up in the hospital for a little while with minor to moderate injuries. They both make full recoveries and over their stay in the hospital they really start to bond more — You know, bring each other snacks, talk in the middle of the night about deep philosophical life stuff, share fun drama about the hospital staff. Somehow, only after a few weeks, they’re able to laugh about things again.

Once they’re both discharged, Mary doesn’t really have anywhere left to go, so of course she sticks around with Norman. The two of them develop a sort of parent/sibling relationship and while Norman does his best to keep the motel afloat, Mary supports them both with different day jobs.

It’s clearly not working out, though. If the motel had low attendance before, it was even worse now after another stint in the local paper as the ‘Murder Motel’. Money is the lowest it’s ever been and if they can’t come up with a solution soon, Norman might have to foreclose on the business.

Mary is doing her best, but she suddenly has a lot of pressure on her to provide. They consider each other family now, though, so she’s determined to stick it out.

Then one afternoon, a certain Duane Duke’s car breaks down on the side of the highway. Like in Psycho III, he needs some place to stay for a while and takes up a job at the motel. Obviously he notices that the place is struggling, and starts formulating some plans to help out. It’s mostly just so he can get out of there faster, but he also has to admit that he feels a little sorry for the two of them, (not to mention he has a huge crush on Mary).

Duke uses his knowledge of the music industry to help Norman develop the Motel in a sort of event hub for Fairvale — There’s a pretty expansive portion of the grounds that makes a decent field. It’s flat, spacious, and easy to access. There’s enough open land to put on small festivals, music gigs, sporting events, fairs, and outdoor competitions. It’s slow at first, but it starts to make them a LOT of money. Norman isn’t so keen about all the traffic, but it’s better than nothing.

(It does mean that something different is on every other week, so there are lots of events I wanna write about them setting up :]])

There are a few conflicts that run through the general idea of the AU —

Mary doesn’t reciprocate Duke’s crush at first and that causes problems. His immaturity is a big issue for her that takes a while to be resolved. Eventually when she does start to have feelings for him, she feels inadequate. She also worries a lot about Norman, about his isolation, his mental health, and how Duke takes advantage of him at first (which is also resolved later). She is just as protective of Norman as he is of her, and won’t tolerate him being manipulated. She’s also grieving the loss of her own mother and it takes its toll on her.

Norman is very protective of Mary since he essentially sees her as a daughter/sister and he doesn’t want somebody like Duke to hurt her. He’s really on edge about Duke’s behaviour around her, so much so that he hardly even recognises when he’s taking advantage of Norman instead. Norman is also really conflicted about all the different business prospects the Motel is having because the whole process of commercialising the area frightens him. Deep down, he liked the peace and quiet.

Duke generally struggles with his ego, with accepting rejection, but also with accepting help and affection from friends, and expressing his emotions in a healthy, non-destructive way. He wants Mary, and, at first, can’t stand Norman. Eventually though, he and Norman sort of work things out and end up in a more amicable relationship than before. Usually all three of them are around when the Motel becomes successful, but Mary still juggles other work from time to time, which leaves Norman and Duke to hash things out and tentatively improve their friendship.

One image I have in my mind is like, Norman and Duke bonding during a power outage, trying to fix the generator, and eventually giving up and visiting Mary at the diner for some food and some company. They act super nonchalantly about it, but it’s a really big sorta “we actually really care about each other and enjoy each others presence” moment for the three of them.

The biggest conflict is probably when Duke announces he’s made enough money to pursue his rockstar dreams and plans to leave, which just depresses the fuck out of Mary and Norman. Mary has to fight with the decision to stay with Norman and essentially be left behind, or go with Duke and abandon Norman. It’s a lot for her. I still haven’t decided how I want that to all go down. I don’t want Duke to have to give up his dreams, but I want everyone to be happy 😭 hopefully I won’t have to end it on a “they’ll never truly be happy together like this” ending and make them all split up — but also… maybe a natural sort of “time is transient and people move on and memories remain” sort of ending might work well….

OH!! I also want Mary to be aspiring to go to college/university and Norman is VERY supportive because he never even got to go to high school, let alone college. He wants to see his girl succeed!! (I just want him and Duke to be her two guests for her graduation cheering like crazy and making a fool of themselves and embarrassing her while she’s on stage by being so loud but she loves them so much and can’t help but laugh 💖💖💖)

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

I Choose You

AO3 LINK

Hurt/Comfort

Whump

Angst

Love Confessions

Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz Takes Care of Evan "Buck" Buckley

Christopher Diaz Has Two Dads

Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure

Ana Flores Bashing (9-1-1 TV)

Nightmares

Getting Together

Buck just wants Eddie to be happy. If Eddie is happy, he's happy. But seeing him with Ana... it makes Buck hurt in a way that goes deeper than any cut could. He pushes it away though, because Eddie deserves to have this. He deserves to fall in love (even if Buck wishes it was him he was in love with). Buck won't admit his feelings for Eddie. There's no way he'd reciprocate them, and he can't risk losing this makeshift family. He'll hold all this inside until it kills him if it means he gets to keep Eddie and Chris in his life.

"I found it!" Buck is pulled from his thoughts by the joyful shouts of Chris. Chris never fails to bring a smile to his face. The boy gestures for Buck to join him at the kitchen table, proudly displaying the pen he thought he had lost. It was one they got at the aquarium. It has a dolphin on top and is decorated with an ocean pattern. "Can you help me with my science homework? I would ask Dad, but he's not very good at it." He whispers the last part even though Eddie isn't home.

"Of course, superman. What are we learning today?"

"It's about plants. How they work and stuff. We got to look at one under a microscope today, it was awesome!"

Buck takes a peek at the sheet. It's not too difficult, all stuff he retained from elementary school. "Okay. I'm sure you know this one. What is it called when plants get their energy from the sun?"

"Photosynthesis. Duh. And the next one is CO2."

They get through the sheet rather quickly. Chris already knew most of the answers, but he just liked working with Buck. Homework is more fun when you do it with someone else. Plus, Buck tells him a bunch of cool plant facts as they work. Chris trades a few of his own facts in return. They're interrupted by Eddie and Ana returning home from their date. Chris can't help but wrinkle his nose at that. He doesn't really like Ana.

"Hey, Buck. Thanks for watching him tonight."

"No worries! Any excuse to spend time with my favorite Diaz. How was the movie?"

"Good! You'd have love it, we'll rent it for a movie night when it comes out. You staying the night?"

Buck wants to say yes. God, he wants to say yes. The thought of going back to his empty loft is hellish. But he catches the look in Ana's eyes. "No, I've gotta get up early tomorrow. I'll leave you guys be."

Chris is about to complain, but Eddie gently urges him out of the room so he can get ready for bed. Buck gathers his stuff, trying to ignore the feeling of Ana watching him. He moves to go to the door. Ana steps in front of him.

"Buck. Can we talk?"

"Yeah. Yeah, is everything alright?"

"I think you need to distance yourself from Edmundo and Chris." The words hit him like a slap to the face.

"What?" He huffs out.

"You love them. That much is clear. But you need to realize that you staying over every night, cooking them breakfast and spending every day with them, isn't healthy. Not for them or for you. They need to be able to move on with their life, with...with new people. They keep you around because they can tell you're lonely. They're too nice to tell you to leave. But you're an extra burden for Emundo to take care of. And he doesn't need more to handle right now. And for Chris, you put him danger. With the tsunami-" Buck freezes at the mention of it. "You aren't ready to be any kind of role model for a child. You'll only hurt him. You're Edmundos' best friend. I'm not asking for that to change. But you need to realize that that's all. You need to start acting like a best friend, not something more. You need to go off on your own, find a real family for yourself. Because we already have a family here. And you aren't meant to be part of it."

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